


The Singer

by 16woodsequ



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Corruption, Cybertron, Cybertron has issues, Cybertronian Culture (Transformers), Cybertronian Politics (Transformers), Cybertronian Senate (Transformers), Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt Starscream, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Music, Seeker Trines, Seekers, Self-Harm, Sentinel Prime is a dick, Starscream is doing his best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 48,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28325016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/16woodsequ/pseuds/16woodsequ
Summary: Everyone knows that the Singer is a Seeker blessed by Primus to sing songs that predict the future and guide the present.It is too bad no one can seem to unravel his meaning.Or so Megatronus has been told. He is starting to suspect some willful ignorance on the behalf of his fellow Councillors."What was his name again?" he asks, his optics pinned to the fiery ones in front.The councillor next to him shrugs, hardly paying the song any mind. "Starscream."Or, Megatronus finds himself entangled in the mess of corruption that is Cybertron, and finds an ally in a bitterly fierce Seeker who can only speak in song.
Relationships: Megatron & Optimus Prime, Megatron & Starscream, Skywarp & Starscream & Thundercracker (Transformers)
Comments: 100
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to wait to post this until tomorrow, but I got impatient.
> 
> This is a AU that I came up with with my sister, and I told her it would be too hard to write, but... I wrote it for her for Christmas, and now I can share it here!
> 
> Note: make sure to read the tags, mild descriptions of TW stuff.
> 
> [Playlist](https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLuNzkXxLp_H2YGBYHhikaLHEFkncbIQMh) for this story

Megatronus hadn’t really thought much of the Singer before now.

Everyone knows _about_ the Singer. A Seeker, blessed by Primus to be connected to the ‘Song of the Universe’, or so it is said. They are supposed to work in tandem with the Prime to guide the people of Cybertron – which would explain why Megatronus had never seen him before. The Singer stays in Iacon, they would never travel to somewhere like Kaon.

But now, _he_ is the one travelling to Iacon. He glances out the window of his transport vehicle and sneers at the posh scenery. He might be the Kaon delegate, chosen to represent the city-state in the latest batch of mass trade talks hosted in Iacon, but he can still resent the upper-class nature of the city.

Iacon is a city of rich elites – for the most part anyways – and he doubts most of his fellow delegates and councillors consider him to be ‘politician’ material. He isn’t, not really. But Kaon is a rougher class of people, and he had worked his way up the ranks until he had gotten here.

 _Inside the city of razor snakes,_ he thinks bitterly, turning away from the window to where the rest of his delegation is waiting. They are on their way to a state dinner – Iacon is fond of those sort of high-class simpering parties – and rumour has it that the Prime makes a habit of presenting the Singer as entertainment.

“I’ve never heard the Singer before,” he hears Blitzwing say as he comes over, the mech’s optics bright with anticipation. “I’ve heard it’s like listening to an angel.” He leans forward excitedly in his seat. “Do you think it’s true that his songs can predict the future? My sire said he’s connected to the Threads of Fate, and it comes out in song.”

Next to him, Hook scoffs and crosses his arms. “That’s just a story,” he says, shaking his helm. “Besides, everyone knows you can’t understand the Singer. It’s all song, he can’t even talk to explain what he’s saying. He could be predicting the future and you would never know it.”

Blitzwing pouts a little at that, which Megatronus ignores, instead glancing over to his silent Second, the blank black mask revealing nothing. “And what do you think, Soundwave?” he asks. “Will this Singer be everything he is chalked up to be?”

Soundwave remains silent for a moment before he lifts his servo to pet the symbiote on his chest and repeats back the sound of Blitzwing’s voice. _“I’ve never heard the Singer before_.”

Megatronus nods before flicking his optics up, noting the slowing pace of the transport vehicle. “Look sharp,” he says, squaring his shoulders. “We’re almost there.” 

oOo

The dinner is just as CPU-numbing as he had been expecting it to be. He and his delegation are seated with the others at a long table in a vast dining room, the room itself a perfect example of grand exuberant Iaconian tastes, with high vaulted ceilings sweeping up to small windows which let in the light of the setting sun. The table is set with crystal tableware, and the feast hosts food from all over the planet. The seating too, seems overly complicated, but it is probably intentional for intricate political reasons.

He flicks his optics around the room as each delegation is broken up, but not completely, so that most mechs are sitting next to both familiar and unfamiliar faces. There are delegations from nearly every city-state at the dinner, although he can’t help noting the lack of a Seeker delegation from the city of Vos. He supposes they might not need to send anyone though, if their Singer is constantly at the Prime’s elbow.

He himself still has Hook at his left elbow, but an unfamiliar mech from Crystal City sits on his right. The mech’s paintjob is impeccable, polished till it is near _sparkling_ , and he has a light blue robe draped over his shoulder struts that pools down by his chair, the thing made out of light, impractically gauzy fabric.

Actually, most of the delegates have extra finery either flowing or clinking about their person. Kaon doesn’t generally bother with that sort of thing, but from the look the mech throws him, he imagines his lack is poorly regarded.

He grits his denta and works on keeping his face neutral. Just because everyone in the room is an upper-class snob doesn’t mean he can get off on the wrong pede with them. He scans the mech and tries to place him. “Councillor Crystalspire, I presume,” he says, turning towards the mech with what he hopes is an appropriately welcoming expression.

The mech seems a little surprised by his ability to recognise him – as though he couldn’t have spent the last few deca-orns preparing for this like everybody else— and he finds he has to keep the small, pleasant smile on his face by sheer force of will.

“Ah,” Crystalspire says in a lofty tone, turning to him. “A pleasure.” His optics flick over him, taking in his battle-grade armour. “Megatronus of Kaon, I believe?”

Megatronus smiles serenely and makes polite conversation at him for a while before a fanfare finally choruses through the room, cutting through the chatter and announcing the entrance of the Prime and his Senate. He turns and watches silently as Sentinel Prime steps in through the high doorway, followed by the Senate as he makes his stately way towards the raised dais at one end of the table, a separate feast spread out for him and the Senate.

The Senate seats themselves, while Sentinel remains standing, his heavy, deep blue robe draped over one arm as he reaches for a glass of energon. “My friends,” he starts, raising the glass, the crystal sparkling in the warm light. “It pleases me that we are able to meet and refuel together.”

He smiles widely at the group, and Megatronus works on keeping his expression calm. He had known when he had come here that he would have to deal with pompous simpering and speechmaking politicking, but he would really much rather just get on with the trade talks.

Nevertheless, Sentinel continues, speaking of peace and cohesion and comradery, the councillors around him nodding along as though they all wouldn’t spit in each other’s energon if given the chance.

“Finally,” Sentinel says, gesturing off to the door from which he had entered. “As a symbol of the great bond between our city-states, as well as the wisdom of Primus given to us, I present to you, the Singer.”

Megatronus sits up slightly and can’t help craning his neck a little as he watches a slim mech step into the room. A hush falls over the table, and Megatronus watches almost mesmerized as the mech’s wings sweep up elegantly behind him, the simple silver panels nearly glowing in the light.

This isn’t the first time he has seen a Seeker before, although it is a rare occurrence, and like any that he’d managed to catch a glimpse of, this one is stunning. He wears a robe like everyone else, the sheer, lightweight fabric completely pointless, but beautiful as it flares around him, the gold mesh complimenting his grey and red armor. The finery suits him better than some of the other councillors, and the Seeker moves confidently, with a grace that some could only dream of.

Up on the dais, Sentinel Prime sits back, a satisfied smile on his face at the reaction drawn by the Singer. He gives the mech a nod and the Seeker sweeps his wings up as he steps lightly over to stand next to the dais, his chin high as he opens his mouth to sing.

 _“When I look into your… eyes...”_ Megatronus blinks at the soft, slow melody, the Seeker’s voice seeming to float over the crowd, the folds of his robe swaying with him as he sings. _“It's like watching the night sky… or a beautiful sunrise, there's so much they hold.”_

Megatronus raises an optic ridge as he listens. He will admit that the voice is pleasant. Legend says that the Singer is blessed with the clearest, broadest voice among the Seekers, capable of reaching the highest or lowest notes of any of them, and that at least, seems to hold true.

“While at least his voice isn’t overexaggerated,” Hook grumbles quietly next to him, his optics on the Singer. “But his song doesn’t seem all that special to _me_.”

Megatronus can’t help but agree. It is a _nice_ song, the notes flowing and calm, a perfect opener for a state dinner, but he wouldn’t say there is anything magic, or cosmic, or _fateful_ about it. The song finishes, and the Singer sweeps into a low bow as they applaud, his optics glancing over the table as he stands.

His gaze drifts over him and their optics meet for a nanoklick, and for a moment Megatronus could swear they widen in surprise at the sight of him. Just as quickly though, the Seeker’s face is reset with an expression of calm elegance, and Megatronus is almost certain that he had imagined the whole thing.

The Singer continues with another song, but the councillors slowly turn back to their dinner, sipping at flavoured energon and nibbling at fancy treats as they chat lightly with each other, twisting their words in and out of phrases so as to never quite say _exactly_ what they mean.

Megatronus sighs and reaches for a spun crystal pastry, a delicacy from Praxus that he would never normally have been able to sample. He vents and darts his optics around the table, keeping a lookout for both Soundwave and Blitzwing, and noting the councillors sitting on either side of them. He might hate the politicking, but he is not completely ignorant of it. He had come to Iacon to protect the interests of his city, and he intends to do so.

Which means making nice and chatting stupidly with the mechs around him.

The dinner stretches on, and he has just about exhausted the topic of the assorted variety of refreshments at the feast with Crystalspire, when the Singer changes his song again.

He probably wouldn’t have noticed, except for this time, the Seeker hums to himself for a few beats, as though imitating an instrument, and he glances up for a moment, wondering briefly why the Singer couldn’t have been provided with _real_ instruments for the occasion, considering how he is supposed to be the evening’s entertainment.

As he looks up, his optics meet briefly with the Seeker’s again, and the mech’s mouth ticks upward into a flash of a sly smile before he opens his mouth and begins his song.

_“I am just a poor boy, though my story's seldom told, I have squandered my resistance, for a pocket full of mumbles, such are promises.”_

The words are soft, almost gentle as the Seeker sings them, and Megatronus isn’t sure why they capture him so much, except for the fact that the Seeker holds his gaze the entire time. The phrase finishes and the Singer’s optics glint, his voice becoming a little louder.

 _“All lies and jests_ ,” his optics dart around the room as he sings before landing on him again. “ _Still a man hears what he wants to hear, and disregards the rest.”_

The Seeker closes his optics for a moment, swaying as he hums again and Megatronus finds himself staring at him, his dinner forgotten. The Seeker opens his optics and looks at him again, the intensity of his gaze practically pinning him to his chair.

“ _When I left my home and my family_ ,” he sings, something knowing in his optics. “ _I was no more than a boy, in the company of strangers, in the quiet of the railway station,_ running _scared_. _”_ His voice seems to target something in him as he strikes the last two words, his wings flaring out behind him.

A klick later and Councillor Crystalspire is trying to talk to him, seemingly unfazed by the song or the Seeker singing it. Megatronus blinks and forces himself to tear his gaze away from the Singer, turning to fumble his way through Crystalspire’s inane remark on the weather in Kaon.

By the time he manages to turn back to the song, the verse has changed, and the Seeker’s optics are on him again. “ _In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade,”_ he raises his chin. “ _And he carries the reminders of ev'ry glove that laid him down, or CUT him till he cried out, in his anger and his shame.”_

Megatronus stares, almost numb as he listens, the chatter of the other delegates buzzing emptily in his audios. Up at the front, the Singer’s voice raises with emotion, his arms lifting without ever breaking optics with him. _‘I am leaving, I am_ leaving _’_.” His voice drops. “ _But the fighter still remains, mmm mmm_. _”_ The Seeker hums again, swaying slightly with the beat, his optics bright red as he stares at him.

 _This is about you_ , his optics whisper. _Listen to my song. It can’t be anyone else, can it? Not in_ this _room._

Megatronus swallows and drags his gaze away. He is being irrational. He has no reason to believe that the Singer would sing about him. Even if the rumours are true and the Singer _is_ connected to Primus through his song, he is supposed to aid the Prime in guiding Cybertron. He has no reason to be singing about the past of one city-state delegate.

 _I’m just reading into it too much_ , he thinks as he reaches for a cube of delicately spiced energon. _I’m sure everyone thinks he is singing about them at one point or another. His songs can mean anything if you want them to._

That doesn’t explain why the Seeker had refused to look away from him.

He turns to Hook after that, finding out who is on his other side, and making polite conversation about current trends, and weather events, and isn’t-it-good-of-the-Prime-to-invite-us-all-here, all the while unable to keep his audio receptors from tuning into the Seeker at the front of the room.

The tone changes for the next song, the Singer tapping his digits against his leg to speed up the beat, his robe swaying lightly with his movements. “ _Sing for your supper, and you'll get breakfast_ ,” he starts, his voice harder than before, his wings swinging up. “ _Songbirds always eat_.” The note is drawn out, almost jarringly sharp before he continues. “ **If** _their song is sweet to hear_.”

Megatronus finds his helm turning back to the Seeker, unable to keep from focusing on the song. The Singer’s optics meet his again, before flicking briefly to the raised dais, his voice climbing _._

 _“I heard, from a wise canary, trilling makes a fellow willing…”_ His optics are sharp as they turn to scrutinize the room, his gaze landing on him again. “ _So, little swallow, swallow now, now is the time to sing for your supper and you'll get breakfast.”_ For the barest flash of a klick, a sneer seems to flicker over his mouth, but it is gone in the next instant. _“Songbirds are not dumb.”_

“What, do you suppose a canary is?” he finds himself asking, mumbling almost to himself, his optics still up front.

Next to him, Councillor Crystalspire snorts, shaking his helm. “Who knows?” he says with a dismissive wave. “He may have the voice of Primus, but nobody knows what he says.”

The verse is repeating, and Megatronus watches as the Singer sings, his optics narrowed. _“Now is the time to sing for your supper, and you'll get breakfast,”_ he sings as he glances over the crowd, his servos spread to mirror his wings. “ _Songbirds are not dumb. They never buy a crumb of bread, it is said...”_ His gaze drops to Megatronus’ again. “ _So sing. And you'll be fed_.” He hums sharply and his wings flare as he raises his chin. “ _Just_ sing _. And you'll be fed_.”

Megatronus sets his energon down and glances around the table. He might not have the brightest mind at deciphering hidden meanings, and Kaon might not have a tradition of song like Vos does… but the song certainly _feels_ pointed.

Nobody else seems to have noticed though.

The Singer meets his gaze for a klick, before he straightens and starts another song, his voice going softer and his digits moving for a klick, as though plucking invisible strings in the air. _“I need another story,_ ” he sings. “ _Something to get off my chest. My life gets kinda boring, need something that I can confess.”_

His voice filters above the sounds of the mech’s around him, and Megatronus can’t help noticing how their conversations remain uninterrupted. _He really_ is _just supposed to be the entertainment_ , he thinks as he glances around the room. _Most people are hardly even listening to him_.

From what he can hear though, the Singer seems to be saying something _anyways_.

He lifts his energon again to take a sip. “What was his name again?” he asks, his optics pinned on the fiery ones in front.

The optics stare right back. _“Tell me what you want to hear,”_ he sings. _“Something that will light those ears. Sick of all the insincere, so I’m gonna give_ All My Secrets _away.”_

Councillor Crystalspire shrugs, hardly paying the song any mind as he reaches for another pastry. “Starscream, I believe.”

Megatronus hums thoughtfully.

Up at the front, the Singer sings. _“This time, don’t need another perfect lie, don’t care if critics ever jump in line, I’m gonna give all my secrets away.”_

oOo

The dinner carries on well into the night cycle, and the Singer sings for the whole of it, never stopping once, even for energon, the fact making it difficult for Megatronus to forget his ‘Songbird’ song.

 _Songbirds are not dumb,_ he had sung. _Sing and you’ll be fed._

Is he reading too much into the Singer’s songs? Everyone knows he can’t be understood, or so he has been told. It seems pretty clear, to _him_ at least, that the Seeker has something to say, regardless.

 _Stay focused_ , he reminds himself as he and his delegation follow the servant leading them down to the guest quarters set aside for them. _You aren’t here for the Singer; you are here for trade and Kaon._

Trade talks won’t start until tomorrow though, so for now he just needs to concentrate on getting a good recharge. The rooms they are led to don’t disappoint. Like everything else in the Prime’s palace, the suite is extravagantly outfitted, a lush sitting room separating out into a large crystal washrack, and separate berthrooms for all of them, each with their own overstuffed silken berthmat, and wide windows revealing the glowing nighttime city.

“Wow,” Blitzwing murmurs, summing everything up into one awed word. Megatronus can’t help but agree. Council work for Kaon might have introduced him to a higher class of life than what he had been born into, but this is several steps above even that.

 _When I left my home and my family_ , the voice of the Singer echoes in his processor _. I was no more than a boy, in the company of strangers, in the quiet of the railway station, running scared._

He shakes his helm and turns to Blitzwing. “So, what did you think of the Singer? Did he live up to your expectations?”

Blitzwing grins and walks over to plop down on one of the luxurious couches that sit in the middle of the room. “Well his voice is certainly worth it,” he says, leaning back and kicking his pedes up onto a pillow. “Can’t say I understood what he was going on about, but I doubt he would say much. It was just a dinner after all.”

Megatronus hums noncommittedly and sits down on the couch across from him, the soft fabric gliding easily against his armor. He wonders idly if the nicks and old scratches in his frame – hidden, but never fully gone – will catch on the flimsy fabric. Will the small blemish be enough to ruin it? Will the couch be replaced after he leaves?

“You didn’t think he was saying anything important?” he asks, turning to Soundwave. “I got the impression he was trying to say _something_.” Even with the strange words he hadn’t understood, the general _impression_ of the songs had still stuck.

Soundwave tilts his helm for a klick before an audio wavelength appears on his faceplate, flashing as he speaks. “ _He was trying to say_ something,” his own voice says back to him, and Megatronus can’t help relaxing a little at the fact that he hadn’t been the only one to notice something.

By the door, Hook huffs and rolls his shoulder struts. “Well, _I_ didn’t catch anything, but–” He looks over at him. “If you’re _really_ curious, the femme next to me said that anyone can go to see the Singer. Some golden-age rule from before the city-states split or something.”

Megatronus blinks. “Surely not _everyone_ can go to see him,” he says. “He’d never stop singing.”

Hook laughs, a shrewd expression on his face. “Well, you’re not wrong there,” he says, a rueful tone in his voice. “Certainly no _common_ folk make it to see him. From what I hear, it’s mostly reserved for government officials and such. Mostly the Prime.”

Megatronus nods slowly at that, thinking it over. _In the clearing stands a boxer,_ the Singer’s voice comes back to him, along with the memory of his fierce gaze. _And a fighter by his trade._

“I’ll look into it,” he decides, looking up. “For now, get some rest. We have a long orn tomorrow.”

oOo

He isn’t wrong about the length of the orn. Nothing can be _simple_ in Iacon, they can’t just sit down and make trade deals, no, they have to go to _conferences,_ and _network,_ and grease each other’s palms with knives and credits.

Frankly, it’s exhausting, but necessary if Kaon wants to keep up with the other city-states, so he plays his part, attending one meeting after another and trying to keep track of which delegates from which city-states he thinks will be the most likely to open favourable trade with Kaon.

One thing is a little strange about the conferences though, the Singer is nowhere to be found. He had been expecting to see him constantly by Sentinel’s side, muttering soft lyrics to him in guidance, since he is supposed to be able to do that sort of thing.

“Will the Singer be coming later?” he asks the mech seated next to him, Councillor Firespark, an orange bot from Tyger Pax with far too much gold ornamentation about his frame. The mech glances over at him, his yellow optics matching the trinkets dangling from his helm.

“Oh.” He blinks and offers him a warmer smile than he had come to expect. “Megatronus, right?” The trinkets jingle as the mech gives him a small nod of respect. “This must be your first time. I wouldn’t expect the Singer. I have never seen him present at any of the trade talks.”

Megatronus’ brow furls in confusion at that. He had assumed that the Singer would play an active role in the negotiations. Even if his Primus wisdom is mythical or completely unintelligible, he is still the only Seeker here, Vos hadn’t sent a delegation.

 _Although_ , he thinks, flicking his optics around the room. _If he_ does _have the Primus’ wisdom, and if he_ can _read the lines of Fate, then I suppose he wouldn’t have to be here in person to be able to advise the Prime later on._

The oddity of the Singer’s role in Iacon however, is a mystery for another time. Instead he turns back to Firespark. “Have you ever had the Singer sing for you?” he asks. “I’ve heard anyone can go request a song.”

Firespark smiles, the bangles on his wrist jingling as he moves. “Oh yes,” he says, giving him an indulgent smile. “I’m sure every councillor requests a song at some point or another.” He flicks his optics over him. “If you wish, I could show you the way to his wing once we are finished here?”

Megatronus takes a moment before nodding. While he could probably find a servant to lead the way, forming a bond with Firespark could be useful. He just hopes that the mech won’t take this favour as something to be owed later on.

Firespark seems pleased by his acceptance, and they both turn back to listen to a tall purple mech from Tarn explain the recent scientific endeavors of his home city-state, Megatronus doing his best to keep his mind focused on the presentation and not the mysterious Seeker somewhere else in the palace.

“Councillor Shockwave is always trying to push his technological advancements,” Firespark tells him afterwards, the sounds of their pedes echoing in the large open hallway leading away from the council rooms. “If you ask me, he’s vying for a spot on the Senate.”

Megatronus hums in interest, walking with his servos clasped behind his back and glancing periodically at the scenery outside the large windows that line the hall. He doubts very much that anyone will be entering the Senate anytime soon. Those seats haven’t changed in _vorns_.

“Is the Singer far?” he asks instead, changing the topic.

Firespark shrugs his shoulder, his entire frame jingling with his every move. “He can most often be found in the Western Tower,” he says. “That’s his wing. Every Singer has lived there since the construction of the Prime’s Palace eons ago.”

Megatronus nods, noting how the wandering hall seems to be slowly leading them upwards. It also seems to be mostly empty, devoid of any other mechs besides themselves, a few servants here and there, and a couple of guards. “There doesn’t seem to be many people in this part of the palace,” he notes, glancing over to Firespark. “I was expecting to find him busy. Is there a time most people go to listen to him?”

Firespark laughs and shakes his tinkling helm, looking deeply amused by his comment. “You’ll understand soon enough,” he says, giving him a knowing look. “The novelty wears off after a while.” He smirks. “He may be easy on the optics, but his songs are incomprehensible. There is only so much nonsense a mech can put up with.”

Megatronus only _just_ manages to keep from scowling. He can understand that the Singer might be slightly confusing, but surely _someone_ else must wonder a little about his songs. From Firespark’s lewd expression though, he imagines some mech’s minds wander a little too much in other directions while listening.

 _I wonder if the Singer can refuse to sing to someone?_ he thinks suddenly as he and Firespark begin to climb a white staircase of elegantly carved crystal. _What would it be like for_ anyone _to be able to come ask for a song for_ any reason?

He gets distracted from his musings as he and Firespark come closer to the Singer’s quarters. Like the rest of the palace, the whole tower is a grand mix of elegant and expensive tastes. They pass through a hallway of high windows arching up to the sky, these ones filled with colourful glass, the panes casting enchanting shadows on the floor.

Around the bend is an open archway with two armed guards standing on either side. “Here you are,” Firespark says, coming to a stop with a light clink. “Enjoy.” He throws him a wink. “The music is only half the show anyways.”

Megatronus’ protoform crawls unpleasantly at the implications and he fights to keep a pleasant expression on his face as he watches Firespark walk away. He vents, trying to rid himself of his discomfort, before turning back towards the entrance.

The guards watch him as he steps closer and he scans them each in turn. They are warframes, just like himself, and like him, they don’t fool around with extra finery, even their armor primarily one colour, the one on the right mostly red, and the one on the left predominantly yellow.

He half expects them to stop, or at least question him as he steps forward, but they don’t, letting him step through the archway with no trouble. He stops just inside the room though, his optics wide, as he takes it in. 

The space is _huge_.

The room is round, the ceiling several stories above him and made up entirely of skylights, letting the golden light of the sun filter down onto two curved staircases that start from the ground floor and arch upwards along the tower wall. They meet in the middle, the balcony lining a wall inlaid with shelves of datapads, while even more windows sit higher up, doting the round walls at regular intervals.

There is a wide berth in between the staircases, complete with fluttering mesh curtains and silk pillows. Beyond that, luxurious couches and chaises spread out throughout the room, every one of them empty. There is a rippled glass door off to the side, which Megatronus assumes to be the washrack, but he doesn’t pay it much mind, his optics drawn towards the staircase on the right, where, halfway down, his gaze meets the fiery red pair of the Singer.

Starscream’s servo is unmoving on the banister as he stares down at him, the blue gauze of this orn’s robe swaying minutely with a slight movements of his wings. The slits in the back leave the appendages free, but frame them beautifully.

 _The music is only half the show_ , Firespark’s voice hisses at him, and he tears his optics away, glancing around the room in a quick scan to settle himself, before looking back at the Seeker. As he looks up, he catches sight of the remains of a narrowed expression, the suspicion flitting away from the mech’s face almost instantly, leaving only a serene mask behind.

He hides his wince at that and bows, hoping to make up for his staring with a show of respect. “Many good orns,” he says formally, looking up at the Seeker again. “Singer Starscream, I wish to request a song.”

He isn’t exactly sure the protocols for this, but Starscream doesn’t seem offended by his request, instead he tilts his helm at him, an almost thoughtful look in his optics. After a moment he blinks, and his servo tightens on the banister briefly before he begins to descend the stairs, the robe swirling around his pedes as he walks.

He stays by the base of the stairs once he arrives, his optics continually pinned to his before he vents and spreads his wings, raising his chin as he opens his mouth to sing.

“ _Incy wincy_ spi _-der_ ,” the notes drop jarringly out of his mouth and Megatronus blinks, taken aback by the tone. In front of him, Starscream never breaks optics with him as he continues. “ _Crawled up the waterspout_.” His voice changes suddenly, jumping to a higher note. “Do- _wn came the rain and washed the spider out_.” The individual words turn choppy, as though he is venting between every one. “ _Up. Came. The. Sun and dried up all the rain, and the incy wincy spider crawled up the spout again._ ”

He breaks off into humming some kind of upbeat rhythm, and Megatronus can only stare. He… he _knows_ that song. That is a _sparkling’s_ song. The tune isn’t quite right, but still— The Singer's voice turns choppy and syncopated again.

“ _I said, lit’le bunny foo foo, a-hoppin’ through the forest, scooping up the field mice and_ bop _them on the_ head _.”_ He is moving slightly now, humming with the beat, his optics still on Megatronus as he sings another random sparkling rhyme, unintelligible words mixed throughout. _“I said, five little monkeys, jumping on the bed, one fell off and_ Broke His Head! _”_ His optics flash with the intensity of his singing, even if Megatronus can’t understand a word of it.

 _“Mama called the doctor and the doctor said– pe-pe-pe-pe-pe Peter!_ ” His wings flare. “ _Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers!”_ Megatronus feels his mouth drop open as the Seeker continues to spit off sparkling riddles at a rapid pace, his face as somber as though he were singing a funeral dirge.

“ _And he, was so fast_ –” His voice drops and changes, like he is singing a second person’s part. _“–was selling seashells, down by the seashore–”_ It changes back. _“He just, wouldn’t last.”_

His voice suddenly goes flat, his helm tilting as he sings. “ _I said, imma little teapot, short and stout, here is my handle, here is my spout.”_ He flicks his optics over him, and he smirks. “ _When I get all steamed up, I may shout: TIP me over and pour me OUT!”_ Megatronus blinks at the abruptness of the last line, and the Singer continues, his voice droning strangely.

 _“I say I’m all made of hinges cuz everything bends from the top of my head way down TO my ends.”_ The words go choppy again as the Singer stands tensely in front of him. _“Got hinges-in-front–and-hinges-in-back, I have to be hinges or else I will CRACK!”_

The Seeker’s optics flash on the last word before he hums the beat again, his servo tapping against his leg. _“I said I met a farmer had a dog, and Bingo was his name! Oh!”_ He scowls and glares at Megatronus, seemingly furious as he spits out the next letters almost venomously. _“B, I, N, G, O. B, I, N, G, O. Be! I N G O and Bingo was his name, yo!”_

He finishes, venting harshly, before drawing himself up with easy dignity, staring at him with an almost challenging gleam in his optics.

For his part, Megatronus is nearly speechless. He had thought the Seeker’s songs were saying something but what…? What did any of that even _mean?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. The songs I picked were obviously ones that my sister and I know, so they might not be familiar to everyone, but I will provide links to anyone interested. I think listening to the song can also add some extra meaning to the story. (It is not necessary of course.)
> 
>  **The songs of this chapter, in the order of appearance:**  
> [I won’t give up](https://youtu.be/0cNhpIzUreI), by Jason Mraz  
> [The Boxer](https://youtu.be/MYPJOCxSUFc), by Simon and Garfunkel  
> [Sing for your supper](https://youtu.be/oZrdkm_7IEE), by The Mamas & The Papas  
> [Secrets](https://youtu.be/sY48BqCiyzo), by One Republic  
> [Child’s Play](https://www.musixmatch.com/lyrics/Brigham-Young-University-Vocal-Point/Child-s-Play), by BYU Vocal Point (I could not find this song anywhere on the internet, which is sad since it works really well for what I wanted, but I linked the lyrics to prove that it is indeed a real song.)
> 
> I will update every Friday.  
> [Playlist](https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLuNzkXxLp_H2YGBYHhikaLHEFkncbIQMh) for this story


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Megatronus learns more about the Singer

He sits in silence once the song ends, trying to make helms or tailpipes of it. Starscream continues to stare at him, unmoving by the stairs, his jaw clenched. 

The voice of Firespark comes back to him, irritatingly knowing. _You’ll understand soon enough. The novelty wears off after a while. There’s only so much nonsense a mech can put up with._

Hmm.

Had it been nonsense? It had certainly _sounded_ like it. The song had been jarring and seemingly random in its mashup of sparkling rhymes and songs. It was childish, the thing full of words he hadn't understood, and not particularly appealing or beautiful to the audio receptor, but Starscream is still watching him _very carefully_.

 _Tell me what you want to hear,_ he had sung last night at dinner. _Something that will light those ears. Sick of all the insincere, so I’m gonna give All My Secrets away._

Hmm.

He had thought, after listening to him at dinner, that the Singer had been trying to get a message across, trying to say _something_. And, he had also thought, perhaps with some naivety, that he would be able to figure out whatever that thing _was_.

Everyone _else_ seems perfectly convinced that the Singer is unintelligible…

But looking into his optics, Megatronus can’t help thinking that there is something there, beyond that. He doesn’t know _what_ yet, but… he may be willing to try to figure it out still. For now, though, he needs some time to think on it.

He vents in and draws himself up, nodding his helm respectfully at Starscream. “Thank you,” he says, not missing the surprised flicker in the Seeker’s optics at his reaction. “May Primus smile on you this orn.”

Formal farewell completed, he turns and makes his way out of the room, the Singer silent behind him. 

Formal and respectful exit notwithstanding, he can’t help gritting his denta a little as he walks, his pedes echoing down the vaulted halls. Had he been a fool to go to the Singer? The Seeker’s behaviour at the dinner last night had made him feel like he had been trying to speak to him _specifically_ … But for all he knows, the Seeker had been playing with him, laughing silently behind his back at the naïve Kaonite who had had the gall to request from him a song.

 _But it wasn’t just his_ actions _that made you curious_ , his thoughts hiss at him. _It was his songs too._

Yes, that is true. For whatever reason, the Singer’s songs seem to resonate with him. The boxer one in _particular_ had seemed to reflect his life exactly.

Does… does he _really_ believe the Singer is connected to wisdom somehow? Does he believe that his songs have significance? That they mean something?

 _I can’t really say his_ last _song meant anything,_ he thinks, a tad bitterly. Just like he had been warned, the song had been complete nonsense, just a jumble of words to a tune, not even complete rhymes. But the Seeker’s _optics_ while he had been singing… now those had been trying to say something.

 _What_ , he isn’t sure yet, but he intends to find out.

oOo

He has to wait until the next orn to visit the Singer again. In between times, he attends another lecture, this one hosted by a mech named Wheeljack, who is doing research at the universities of Crystal City. There is a small luncheon afterwards, and he soon finds that the mech is generally less conniving than most of the other delegates, seemingly more focused on continuing his research than anything else.

“I had to make the presentation as a prerequisite to my funding,” he admits easily to him, the fins on the side of his helm flashing as they stand in an airy hall, plates of treats and appetizers in their servos. “I’m not really interested in the rest of the negotiations; Councillor Mirage is here to handle that.”

Megatronus hums and glances up to where a pompous blue and white mech is speaking by the buffet table with several other delegates, his stately robes trailing several feet behind him on the ground. “Yes,” he says, turning back to the scientist next to him. “I see. Well, I certainly found your presentation captivating. Space Bridges, was it?”

Wheeljack lights up – literally – at the prospect of further discussing his project. “Yes! Well, it’s only a theory for now, of course but…”

And Megatronus sits back and lets him talk. The actual theory itself might go over his helm, but the idea – instant travel between points – is certainly an intriguing one that Kaon should be made aware of. As Wheeljack speaks, he opens his comms and mentally signals Soundwave, calling the smaller blue mech over to him.

Wheeljack pauses at his arrival, and Megatronus jumps at the chance to introduce the two of them. “May I present to you my fellow delegate, Soundwave,” he says, gesturing to his Second. “He is head of communications in Kaon. I’m sure he would be interested to hear more of what you have to say.”

He leaves them to it after that, making his way around the room and touching in here and there with other conversations, making note of who is talking to whom, and which councillors seem to be keeping away from each other. It isn’t exactly _hard_ work, but it is still mentally exhausting, so he can’t help being relieved when the luncheon comes to an end and a call goes out for the next meeting.

This one is a medical lecture, which is Hook’s speciality, and he trusts him to reconvene with him later and explain anything important he needs to know. So, for now, he is free to either go back to his quarters and relax or…

 _Or I can pay another visit to our resident Seeker_ , he thinks, nodding at a few other retiring delegates as he turns to make his way towards the west wing. Like the orn before, no other mechs seem interested in taking advantage of the Singer’s ability, and he wonders at it as he walks.

Surely the Singer must be understandable _sometimes_ , otherwise, what is the _point_? If everyone can have access to the Singer, then surely more people than just the Prime can have the ability to understand him, right?

 _Although, I supposed the Matrix probably helps in this situation,_ he thinks to himself as he walks down the vaulted halls, the colourful shadows from the windows sliding over the grey panels of his armour. He wonders how often the Prime requests songs from the Singer. How does he know if the Singer has something to say to him? Can the Singer seek him out?

He is still thinking it over as he approaches the Singer’s chambers. There are a different set of guards by the door now, a sharp faced helicopter bot who stares at him suspiciously through a red visor, and a dingy green tank warframe who’s optics are also hidden by a yellow visor. They seem more hostile than the last pair, but like last time, they let him pass without incident.

The large room is as bright as ever when he enters, and for a moment, he doesn’t see the Singer, the berth and staircases empty. He wonders briefly if the mech actually has duties elsewhere, but after a klick, he hears a noise, and his gaze is drawn upwards.

The Singer is sitting in an alcove high up on the wall, a window seat that he had overlooked before, the spot accessible only by flight. His gaze meets that of the Singer’s, the mech’s optics narrowed as he looks down on him, his crystal white robe hanging and swaying gently over the side of the seat.

He blinks and turns to face him properly, bowing in respect like last time. “Singer Starscream,” he says again. “I come to request a song.”

There is a moment of silence as Starscream stares down at him, his optics too far away to read properly. A klick later and he seems to make his decision, his legs swinging over the side of the ledge with a flutter of fabric before he pushes off, his thrusters activating and his robe billowing out behind him as his wings flare and he glides to the ground, landing deceptively light on his pedes.

He settles several feet away, his servo coming to rest on the back of a chaise as his robe sweeps around him and his optics flick over him. For his part, Megatronus does his best to keep from being distracted this time — the Seeker is exotic, mostly because he isn’t used to them, but that isn’t really important right now.

What is important, is what the Singer actually _sings_ , that is the whole _point_. Something it seems some mechs forget about.

In front of him, Starscream’s optics scan him, his faceplates almost blank, before a small smile tugs at his lips and he leans against the chaise beside him, his helm tilting up as he looks at him through slitted optics, his digit tapping once against the chaise before he opens his mouth.

 _“Le pire_ ,” he sings, watching him carefully as the first word soars, the notes soft, but plaintive. “ _C'est pas la méchanceté des hommes..._ ”

Megatronus blinks as he listens to the Singer’s song. At the first few words, he had thought that he was simply misunderstanding, or mishearing something, but now he can tell that, unlike last time, the Singer’s words do not even seem to be in his _language._

Starscream’s digits still on the chaise and he continues, his optics maintaining their sharp gaze. “ _Mais l'silence des autres qui font tous semblant d'hésiter._ ” A sneer flickers over his face and he looks away for a moment, his servo tightening for a klick from where he is leaning. “ _Et quand les enfants me demandent, ‘pourquoi la mer est-elle salée?_ ’" He looks back at Megatronus, something close to anger in his voice. “ _Je suis obligé de répondre que les poissons ont trop pleuré_.”

He cuts off his singing to hum, his wings flapping slightly with the beat as he sways his helm. _“Mais dis-moi c'qu'on a fait_.” He closes his optics to hum again, before opening them just as quickly and pinning him with a stare. “ _Mais dis-moi c'qu'on a fait_.”

He clamps his jaw shut after that, the song seemingly finished, the words just as – if not _more_ – confusing than last time. Megatronus narrows his optics slightly and stays silent, watching the Seeker. He may not know what the song had meant, but he is not blind to the bot in front of him.

This song – despite the language barrier – had meant something, and now the Singer is watching him, waiting for something. He thinks back to the flicker of surprise that had crossed the Seeker’s face the last time he had accepted his song without complaint, and he shifts his stance a little, his movements monitored closely by the mech in front of him.

“Thank you,” he says slowly. “For your song, Singer.”

The reaction is more subtle this time, Starscream’s face remaining passively blank, only the slight press of his digits against the fabric of the chaise giving any sign of an internal reaction. He dips his helm just slightly at him before turning with a dramatic sweep of his robe, the mesh trailing after him as he begins to ascend the staircase.

Megatronus vents and turns to leave as well, his CPU racing. He is relatively confident now that _something_ is happening with him and the Singer, but he isn’t exactly sure _what_ , or why for that matter, and he is beginning to think that he is going to need a little more knowledge on his side if he wants to figure it out.

Time to see if Iacon’s fabled archives are truly as grand and vast as they claim to be.

oOo

Despite its flaws, Iacon _does_ have an extensive collection of archives. Its Hall of Records had originally been constructed next to the palace, so as to always be available to the Prime, and is therefore connected via a set of hallways which let him out into the entrance of a large hall, the silver metal tinted blue from the screens filling the separate computer stations that line the walls.

The Hall of Records is semi-public (at least for the upper-classes), so the entrance to the palace is heavily encrypted, and as he steps through, there is a quiet buzz of questing patrons and clicking keyboards as he glances around, trying to figure out where to start.

“Can I help you?” he glances over, and a red and blue mech smiles at him from behind a service desk a few feet from the entrance. His colleague next to him looks slightly apprehensive at the sight of such a large warframe, but the other mech doesn’t seem intimidated, despite his small size.

That fact alone intrigues him, and he steps over, coming up to stand in front of the inquiry desk, his optics meeting the light blue of the mech in front of him. “Perhaps you can,” he says, keeping his voice low so as to avoid disturbing any of the other patrons. “I am looking for information on the Singer.”

The mech smiles at him, and Megatronus finds his open expression a welcome relief from the shifty sideways glances and sharp smiles of his fellow delegates. “I can help you with that,” he says instantly, moving to stand up from his station. “I’ll just bring you to a data-station. I can help you with your search there.”

The mech, who introduces himself as Orion Pax, leads him past the front desk and past several used terminals to a more secluded section of the archive. “I thought a mech coming from the palace might appreciate some more privacy,” he explains as he moves to stand in front of the terminal and explain to him the basic search protocols.

“I’ll leave you to search our data-net yourself,” he says afterwards, turning to him. “But I believe we have some pads in our datapad collection that might interest you as well. If you like, I can go fetch those, and you can ask me any questions you have then.”

Megatronus nods amiably to the suggestion and watches as Orion Pax turns to head deeper into the archive collection, before he steps up in front of the terminal. He doesn’t know much about the Singer beyond rumour and hearsay, so he begins his search with a basic inquiry as to the history and function of the Singer.

He sighs as a long list of articles and dissertations present themselves on the display in front of him. The Hall of Records might be a wealth of knowledge and history, but only for those who have the patience and skill to sift through it. Still, he raises his chin and squares his shoulders. He has dealt with worse than reading a few journal articles. He clicks on the first one, a historical journal.

_The history of the Singer – as with the history of the Prime,_ it tells him, – _is lost mostly to legend and myth. It is said that when Primus was creating the first Thirteen Primes, he bestowed each with unique forms and abilities. Sparklings are told stories of Solus Prime and her Forge, Vector Prime with his Blades of Time, and so on._

_However, instead of creating a Seeker Prime, it is said that Primus blessed the musical race with the Singer, a Seeker, reincarnated throughout the generations with the ability to see and connect through song to the past, present, and future wisdom of Primus. Like the Prime with the Matrix, the Singer oracle can guide Cybertronians with their song, and beyond that, the Singer can even warn of future events or catastrophes the planet might face._

_However, due to the vast knowledge and continuities the Singer is privy to, they can sometimes become lost in their songs and the threads of fate granted unto them by Primus. For this reason, the Singer is always paired with their Prime. Together, the Primus-blessed leaders can guide Cybertron into prosperity._

“Here you are!” Megatronus blinks and pulls his gaze away from the screen to see Orion returning with multiple datapads layered in his arms. “If these don’t cover something, just let me know. I’ll see if I can find something better.” He glances up at him. “Are you finding everything alright?”

The mech’s helpfulness and enthusiasm for learning is endearing, and Megatronus finds himself smiling at him. “Yes, thank you,” he says, nodding at the pile of pads. “I’m sure this will be plenty.”

Orion smiles at that, before leaving him with the pads and the instruction to leave them there once he is finished so that someone can return them to their proper place. Megatronus nods at that and turns back to his search. The historical journal seems to have yielded as much as it can to him, so he turns away from it and reaches for the first pad in the pile, curious to see what Orion had found for him.

 ** _A Blessing and a Curse_ , **the pad reads. **_The Songs of the Singer_**. Intrigued, he scrolls down to read more.

_The Singer’s voice and songs are renowned among many,_ it starts off _. But the actual process and conception of the music is less understood. Singers are a curious phenomenon, partially because of their lack of other forms of communication. It is theorized that the mental access to the time continuum – granted to them from Primus – is so vast and nuanced, that it is difficult to translate in any other way, than through song._

_Attempts to communicate with the Singer through writing and sign fail, the Singer seemingly unable to communicate any way other than lyrically. (This has led to a theory about the “Song of the Universe” which the Singer can supposedly tap into, but that is an article for another orn.)_

_Because of this communication barrier, the Singer often has difficulty expressing what they know, even to the Prime. However, it is evident that the Singer has control of their song, within the confines of the medium._

_For example, Alix Vecta Prime’s Singer famously took a groon and a half to come up with the appropriate song to respond to a question. This demonstrates that the Singer may_ know _something, but the knowledge must first be translated into a lyrical format. This also proves that the Singer does not write their own songs. Instead, it would seem that the Singer must work within the limits of songs that are already in existence to get their point across. (Seeker communities have often claimed to recognise songs sung by the Singer, although the interpretation of said songs are still subject to debate, depending on the context and other indicators from the Singer.)_

_While the song medium of the Singer may, at times, be difficult to understand, a Prime and Singer pair who have learned to be in tune to each other are said to be deeply in synch and a force to be reckoned with. For this reason, Singers are sometimes viewed as secondary leaders, or Primes of Cybertron._

Megatronus pauses in his reading and looks up thoughtfully. The essay had been more helpful than he had been expecting. For one thing, it proves that Singer Starscream’s songs are deliberate. The Singer _can_ choose what songs he wants to sing, in order to get a point across. He may not know _what_ point the Singer is making, but the essay proves that historically, the Singer had been viewed as a reliable source of wisdom and guidance.

 _Not so much anymore,_ he thinks as he sets the pad down, his thoughts drifting back to the empty west wing and the lonely resident Seeker. Is there a reason why this Singer is so hard for others to interpret? Surely even if _others_ can’t understand him, then the _Prime_ must be able to, right? The essay had mentioned how the Prime could learn to interpret the Singer masterfully.

He is about to reach for the next datapad – and perhaps look up whatever this ‘Song of the Universe’ thing is – when his chronometer beeps and flashes an alert in his CPU about the approaching evening meal, the sound reminding him of his duties as a delegate.

He lets out a vent and steps away from the terminal, leaving the datapads to be cleaned up by an archive clerk. The research spree had been a nice break from his duties, but now he is required back at the palace for another long, stately dinner.

He wonders if Starscream will sing for them again.

The Singer is indeed there for the meal, and Megatronus finds he can’t keep his mind off him. After his afternoon of research, there is something a little uncomfortable about the idea of having the Singer – who could be considered a secondary Prime – being reduced to light evening entertainment, and he can’t help staring at him as he comes out to sing.

 _What does_ he _think about all this?_ he wonders as he sips on his energon and watches the Seeker come out, a new silver robe flowing around him. His mind flashes back to last night, and the Singer’s ‘Songbird’ song, and he thinks he has some idea.

Once again, his fellow delegates don’t seem to notice the Singer much, the femme next to him— a ruby red minibot from Kalis named SeerSpot— chatting insipidly through the opening bars of Starscream’s first song.

Because of his social duties as a delegate, he misses out on most of the first song (and part of him can’t help being irritated at the mechs around him. No matter how strange the Singer may be, he still wants to listen.) He gets a reprieve from making polite conversation once SeerSpot turns to the companion on her right, and he finally looks up to see what the Singer is doing.

He is looking right at him, his optics bright and intense in a way that practically pushes him back in his seat. He finds his mouth opening in shock, and a thin smile flickers over Starscream’s face before he tosses his helm and looks up towards the raised dais with the Prime. As Megatronus watches, his optics narrow and his digits drift down to tap a steady drum beat on his leg.

“ _I feel your knife as it goes right in_ ,” he sings, his voice low and melancholy, his optics still on the Prime. “ _Cut to my core but I'm not bleeding... All that you say trying to make me small…”_ his optics flash and he turns his gaze back to him. “ _Well the bigger you get, the harder you fall_.”

He feels his mouth drop open a little at the implications of the song. It probably wouldn’t mean much, if Starscream didn’t have that _look_ in his optics, a sharpness that makes it clear that he isn’t singing for nothing.

“ _You use your words as a weapon, dear_ ,” Starscream continues, his voice deceptively soft as his gaze drifts back to Sentinel Prime, his digits continuing to tap a steady beat on his leg. “ _But your blades don't hurt when you have no fear._ ”

Up on the dais, the Prime doesn’t even seem to notice the Singer, his helm turned away from him as he laughs at something one of the Senators says. Down on the floor, Starscream’s optics narrow for the barest of a klick and his helm tilts. “ _You think that you're_ deep _under my skin…You're trying to_ keep _me suffering…_ ”

His optics pull away from the Prime and turn back to meet Megatronus’ at the table. “ _If you use your words as a weapon,_ ” his voice follows the notes downwards. “ _Then as a weapon, I'll shed no tears_.”

Megatronus swallows, his optics on the Singer as he listens and the song continues. It seems obvious to him that it is pointed, maybe even directed at the Prime (although _why_ , he doesn’t know yet.) Unlike the confusing songs from earlier, or the light meaningless one he had sung first last night, this one seems dark and plaintive.

“But what does ‘skin’ mean?” he muses out loud. Even with his growing belief that the Singer is trying to say _something_ , he still can’t help his confusion over some of his word choices. His research had said the Singer can’t _write_ his songs, so the song he chose must already exist and use that word… but he has no idea what it means.

His thoughts are interrupted as his words draw the attention of the femme next to him. “Sorry?” she says, glancing up from her glass of energon.

“Ah,” he shifts to look at her. “I was simply confused by a word in the Singer’s song. I couldn’t make sense of it.”

SeerSpot’s optics brighten and she gives him an increasingly familiar smile of indulgence. “Oh, _that_ ,” she says dismissively, waving a servo. “I wasn’t really listening. The Singer certainly _sounds_ nice, but his songs don’t go much beyond that, if they make any sense at all.”

His lips press together at her shallow assertion, but he doesn’t get a chance to say anything, because up at the front of the room, Starscream is finishing up his song, the digits of his servo still tapping against his leg.

“ _You think that you're deep under my skin_ ,” he sings, using the mysterious word again. “ _You're trying to keep me suffering. If you use your words as a weapon. Then as a weapon, I'll shed no tears_.” He repeats the last line twice, and as he finishes, his optics flick to meet his again, before darting up in one quick motion to the raised dais.

He finds his optics following along, and he blinks as he realises that, unlike before, Sentinel Prime is watching the Singer now, his servo frozen on his glass of energon. Starscream’s gaze meets his, and for a fraction of a klick, Megatronus watches as Sentinel Prime’s expression narrows into one of distaste.

The look is gone in less time than it takes to blink, but he is struck by the sudden, overwhelming certainty that, not only had the Singer been trying to say something with his song, but the Prime had noticed it too… and he hadn't been impressed.

oOo

The song at dinner drives home the knowledge that the Singer _must be saying something_ with his songs, and for some reason, he seems to be trying to say it to _him_.

He isn’t really sure why, but he is starting to have a sneaking suspicion that the relationship between the Singer and the Prime is not as idealistic as one would like. For one thing, historically, the Singer is supposed to be a constant advisor to the Prime. They are supposed to be able to understand each other.

Now however, the Singer is kept secluded in his tower, and no one seems to believe he can be understood at _all._

The implications are concerning, so it isn’t really surprising that the next orn, after his meetings, he finds himself once again making his way to the Singer’s wing of the palace. Like usual, no other delegates seem intent on taking advantage of the Singer’s gifts, and the halls are eerily silent as he walks, no other sound besides the echoing of his own pedes following him down the spacious hallways.

As he reaches the Singer’s quarters, he notes that the guards have changed back to the red and yellow ones from before, the two mechs much less hostile than the other pair. They shift slightly as he passes through the door, and his audio receptors pick up the mumbled conversation of one to another as he steps into the room.

“He came back,” he hears the red one mutter lowly to the yellow one. “That’s a first.”

The yellow guard hums an affirmative, and he can’t help raising an optic ridge at that. Obviously the Singer is accustomed to being easily dismissed by his listeners.

A sound from above draws his attention away from the two guards, and he looks up to see Starscream sitting in the same alcove as before, a look of surprise seeming to flicker over his face as he leans down to look at him.

“Starscream,” he calls, looking up at him as he clasps his servos respectfully behind his back. “I have come to request a song.”

It could be his imagination, but he thinks he sees the Seeker’s mouth quirk up at him, and soon the Singer is drifting down again to stand a few feet away, his robe different again, this time a light lacey thing that ends just below his waist.

 _How many of those does he have?_ he muses lightly as he watches the Seeker look him up and down, the mech cocking his helm slightly to the side as he scans him. After a klick, his mouth twitches, and this time Megatronus is certain he is pleased about something as he looks at him.

He blinks at that, and Starscream nods once, before opening his mouth to sing. 

“ _Hello darkness, my old friend_ ,” he starts, his servo moving in the air, as though gliding over the notes. “ _I've come to talk with you again_.” His optics flick up to Megatronus and his voice rises. “ _Because a vision softly… creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping…_ ” He tilts his helm at him, and his voice climbs again. “ _And the vision that was planted… in my brain…”_ His voice drops. _“Still remains…Within the sound of silence.”_

Megatronus finds himself speechless as he listens, the Singer’s song seeming to strike at something deep in his core. Starscream seems to be aware of it too, because his optics flick over him, before flashing in satisfaction, his voice shifting beautifully as he continues to sing the song, the lines practically lining up and _screaming_ their importance at him.

“ _And in the naked light I saw_ ,” he continues, his voice almost straining with emotion. “ _Ten thousand people, maybe more_.” He sucks in a vent and begins pacing, his wings flicking in agitation as he continues to sing, his digits beginning to move along to the beat of his song.

“ _People talking without speaking_ ,” he sings, and Megatronus can’t help thinking of the silent politics of his delegation meetings. “ _People hearing without listening_ ,” the Singer continues, his optics darting up to stare into his. “ _People writing songs that_ voices never share—”

Megatronus’ optics widen, and the Singer’s voice drops. “ _No one dared_ ,” he whispers. “ _Disturb the sound of silence._ ”

A klick later and his optics flash, his gaze jumping up to his, something deep and pained in his voice as he sings the next lines. " _Fools said I, You do not know…_ ” His throat flexes. “ _Silence like a cancer grows…_ ”

His wings flick and his voice raises, a note of pleading entering his song. “ _Hear my words that I might teach you!_ ” His arms lift, and his robe sways with him as he moves. “ _Take my arms that I might reach you!"_

Megatronus can practically feel his own emotions rising with the Seeker’s and he stares wide-opticed as the Singer’s voice reaches a new pitch of emotion with the next lines. “ _But my_ words…” his arms drop. “ _Like silent… raindrops fell…”_

His optics look old, and so, so tired as he looks at him, his wings dropping down to hang limply on his back, his voice softening into almost a whisper. “ _And echoed, in the wells, of silence…”_

The song finishes soon after that, and Megatronus can only stare in mute shock for a few klicks. Any doubts he had had about the validity of the Singer’s songs are gone now. While he may not know why the Singer had been so cryptic before, and while he may not know for sure what to _do_ with the song he had just heard, one thing is clear.

“You really _are_ trying to say something,” he says.

In front of him, Starscream _grins._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Megatronus learns about bit more about the Singer and finally manages to get a meaningful song out of him.
> 
> The first song Starscream sung this chapter is in French. You don’t need to know the translation yet if you don’t want to. 
> 
> **Songs in the order they appear:**  
> [Le Pire](https://youtu.be/VTtOdkbn4LM), by Maitre Gims  
> [Words as weapons](https://youtu.be/5zbe3RdLlJs), by Birdy  
> [The Sound of Silence](https://youtu.be/bGLHadex0B0), by Simon and Garfunkel


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Megatronus figures out an important key to understanding the Singer.

Knowing that the Singer is trying to say something, and knowing what it _means_ are two different things.

By now Megatronus is certain that the Singer is trying to tell him something, but given how little experience he has with the Singer— and given the last few confusing songs he had heard— he isn’t exactly confident in his interpretation of anything the mech is saying.

Well, this most _recent_ song, he thinks he has a pretty good grasp on, others not so much. Besides the so-called ‘nonsense’ songs he had heard, Starscream continually uses strange words in his _average_ songs, which makes things difficult. Megatronus is not the Prime, and therefore has no Matrix, or lifelong experience to guide him on this. If he wants to be able to understand the Seeker — and if he wants to be able to know what to _do_ with the songs he hears — he is going to need to get help.

To that end, he finds himself once again returning to the archives, his optics sweeping the silver terminals as he steps through the security doors, the hall abuzz with the quiet sounds of archivists at work.

“Oh.”

He blinks at the sound of surprise, and he turns to see the same archivist from before, Orion Pax, the red and blue mech coming from a corridor off to the side, a smile on his face and a stack of datapads in his arms. “You’re back,” he says, sounding pleased. “Are you here to research the Singer again?”

He finds himself relaxing at the sight of a familiar, friendly face, and he offers the mech his own small smile in return. “Yes,” he says simply. “There is much still that I don’t understand.”

Orion’s smile grows and he juggles his datapads a little as he comes to stand closer. “I’ve actually been looking into that too,” he tells him earnestly. “I wanted to have some things on file in case you came back. Would you like me to show you?”

Megatronus can’t help blinking a little at the thoughtfulness of that, a part of him still surprised at the ease of which Orion seems to have gotten comfortable with him, a warframe. Then again, the mech _is_ an archivist, it makes sense he is enthusiastic about research.

“I would like that,” he tells the mech, and Orion turns to lead him down through the terminals again, the two of them stopping at a deserted station in a relatively quiet corner of the archives.

“I’ll just pull up the program I saved it under,” Orion tells him as he sets down his datapads and moves over to the data-station, his digits moving deftly over the keyboard as he types. “I actually had to go to my mentor, Alpha Trion for some of this,” he comments as he clicks through the screens. “Turns out we don’t have a lot of data on the more contemporary Singers.”

“Really?” Megatronus asks, his optic ridges raising in surprise. It seems strange that the archives would lack information on the more recent Singers.

Back at the terminal, Orion shrugs. “Yeah. It’s too bad. It's an interesting topic, I’ve been doing a lot of my own research after you came in.” Megatronus nods at that, and Orion steps back a little to let him see the file he brings up.

“Is there anything in particular you are looking for?” he asks, as he watches him scan his optics over the screen.

“Yes,” he replies, leaning back slightly and bringing his optics back up to the archivist. “I was wondering if you have any thing on the particular language of the Singer.” His lips press together, and he vents out a huff. “There have been several words— or whole songs entirely that he sings that I cannot understand at all.”

Orion’s brow furls slightly at that, and he turns back to the terminal. “Do you have an example?” he asks as he clicks through a few of the subfiles. “What kind of word?”

Megatronus tilts his helm as he thinks, trying to pull up one of the foreign sounding words. “Hmm, one of them was ‘skin’, I believe,” he says after a moment, looking back at Orion.

The mech doesn’t seem to recognise the word either, a look of concentration on his face as he types in a few searches into the terminal. “Do you happen to know the glyph he was using?” he asks after a few klicks of fruitless searching. “It would be easier to translate if I knew how to spell it.”

Megatronus shakes his helm. “I have no idea,” he says. The word hadn't seemed to match with any glyphs he knows.

Orion sighs at that, sitting back from the terminal with a look of dejection. “I have a few research papers on Singer songs,” he says, looking up at him. “But nothing word specific like that. If I could hear the word, maybe record it into a translating software…”

He shrugs, as if the idea is impossible, but Megatronus finds himself blinking at the possibility. “You just need to hear the word?” he says, looking over.

Orion shrugs again, not looking hopeful. “Well, ideally I would have _him_ say the word,” he says, tapping his servo against the terminal. “That way he could point out the correct glyph, I would get a range of translations otherwise.”

Megatronus pauses for a moment as he thinks over his words, before looking back over his shoulder towards where they had come. “Well,” he says slowly. “Why don’t we do that then? Do you have time now?”

His suggestion seems to startle Orion, his mouth dropping open as he turns to look at him, his servos stilling on the terminal. “What— _go_ to the Singer?” he says, his voice high with surprise. “What? Me?”

Megatronus blinks at him, his optics flicking over him as he tries to understand his surprise. “Is that a problem?” he asks. “Are you busy?”

In front of him, Orion lets out a short vent of amusement and shakes his helm. “No, it’s just—” he lowers his voice. “I’m not exactly… upper-class. I don’t think anyone besides elites have gone to see him in _ages_.”

Megatronus finds his optic ridges lowering at that. What Orion says makes sense, considering how little the Singer seems to leave the Prime’s palace— and how tight security is… but technically, _technically_ , the Singer should be available to anyone.

“Isn’t there a law stating anyone can request a song from him?” he says, remembering Hook’s mention of the golden-age rule. He watches Orion nod slowly at that, and he smiles, setting his shoulders. “Well then,” he says decisively. “If you’re with me, then I don’t see any problem with you coming into the palace to hear a song. It isn't _illegal_ anyways.”

Actually, he isn’t a hundred percent sure if that is true— he will be taking Orion into the _palace_ after all, and for a klick he worries that the mech might be put off by the riskiness of the situation. But his words seem to reassure him, and the mech looks a little wistfully at his screen full of research.

“I— hearing one of his songs _would_ be pretty special,” he says softly, before blinking a little and turning back to him. “I can bring a datapad and record his words to translate them, then we can know what he is saying.”

Megatronus grins at that, glad to see his companion isn’t against a bit of a challenge. “Excellent,” he says, shifting to turn back the way they had come. “Let’s go.”

He leads Orion back through the security doors and the mech hurries after him as he guides them down the halls, his datapad clutched to his chest and his shoulders hunched slightly as if he expects guards to suddenly come swooping out from the rafters to apprehend him.

“I heard the Singer has a wing all to himself,” he whispers, the sounds of their pedes echoing down the empty halls.

“Yes,” he replies. _A wing which remains mostly vacant_ , he thinks a tad darkly. Now that he knows for sure that the Singer is trying to say something, he finds himself growing more irritated with the flippant attitude of most of the mechs around him. It says something when Orion— who hadn't even _heard_ the Singer before— has more reverence for him than mechs who see him every orn.

He shakes his helm slightly to focus back on the task in front of him, and it doesn’t take long for the two of them to reach the Singer’s quarters, the pair of guards strangely absent from the doorway this time.

His optic ridge furls at that, and his steps slow as they approach the room, his mind a bit more uncertain than before as they grow near. All the other times he had visited, there had been at least two guards outside the Seeker’s door, to have them missing is bizarre.

“Is this it?” Orion asks, his voice still a low whisper as he peers from around his shoulder, his optics flicking uncertainly towards the doorway, as if he expects it to get up and bite him.

Megatronus only nods at him, his mind still mostly focused on the missing guards, and he approaches the room, his steps echoing loudly as he goes inside, his optics scanning the space as Orion creeps up behind him.

The rooms are empty, well and truly empty this time— with no Seeker sitting in the window seats— and he can’t help the flare of surprise he feels at that. In all his time in the palace, this is the first time the mech has been absent from his rooms.

 _Does he actually have duties elsewhere?_ he wonders, glancing around the rooms again. That would be a first—

A knock at the door calls his attention back behind him and Orion gives a start next to him as they both turn to see a small black and white femme standing in the previously empty doorway. It doesn’t take long to recognise the decals on her doorwings as that of the service staff though, and Megatronus relaxes quickly, looking over the servant with interest.

“Are you looking for the Singer?” she asks, her gaze flicking over them and not even giving Orion a second glance. “He is in the Gardens for his flight of the deca-orn.”

Ah. Not exactly duties then, but Megatronus supposes he shouldn’t be surprised the Seeker goes out to fly sometimes, from what he knows, that is important to fliers, Seekers in particular.

“I can show you the way, if you would like,” the femme offers, and soon he and Orion are trailing along behind her as she leads them down several sweeping hallways to, presumably, the Gardens. Orion seems more at ease now, his optics flicking curiously down the hall as they walk, his datapad still clutched to his chest.

“That was really the Singer’s quarters?” he asks after a moment, and Megatronus looks over at him as he answers affirmatively. Beside him, Orion huffs out a surprised vent. “Huh, I was expecting to see his instruments inside,” he says absentmindedly. “I wonder where he keeps them?”

Megatronus blinks at him. “Instruments?”

Orion looks up and nods. “Of course,” he says, his optics glancing over to the servant before flicking back up to him. “You know, my research said that Singers can play almost any instrument. It really helps with the interpretation of their songs sometimes.” His optics brighten with interest and he shifts his grip on his datapad. “I heard that one time, a Singer answered a question with pure music, no words at all.”

Megatronus hums thoughtfully at that, his optics going a little distant as he thinks back to the songs he has heard so far from the Singer. Hadn't he wondered once why he didn’t have any instruments? Starscream had often acted like he was playing notes while singing… but he has yet to actually see him _play_ anything.

“Do Singers often have musical instruments?” he asks Orion, keeping an optic on the servant so that they don’t lose her as they continue down the hall.

Orion nods immediately. “Oh yes,” he says, his shorter legs moving faster to keep up. “I was expecting a whole room full of instruments for him. That’s what my research made it sound like.”

He thinks back to the Singer’s room, with its dozen different types of chairs and chaises— and not a single instrument in sight— and his optics narrow. Things continue to grow stranger and stranger with this Seeker.

It doesn't take long to get to the Gardens, the servant guiding them to a tall glass door, the clear panelling revealing a vast garden of crystals beyond, the colourful gems carefully grown and cultivated for the indoor gardens.

Upon arrival, the femme bows once to them each, before leaving, and he steps forward to pull open the glass door, a gust of cool, damp air brushing over his plating as he steps through to the enclosure.

He will admit that it is vent-stutteringly beautiful.

The gardens sprawl out in front of him, a sweeping maze of walkways and carefully maintained paths twisting between crystals from all over the planet, the gems growing in delicate, colourful outcroppings, each carefully cut and cultivated in turn. On the edges of the garden, surrounding the crystals, glass walls rise up around them, the reflective panelling reaching all the way up to the roof, where the sun shines through a glass ceiling, the bright light casting colourful shadows on the intricate paths below, and lending an almost mythical feel to the large space.

His optics travel up to look out the high ceiling, and his vents stall again as he catches sight of the Singer, the mech now transformed into his flying mode, sitting practically flush with the ceiling as he circles the room in lazy loops.

Next to him, Megatronus knows that Orion is standing and staring as well, the mech just as mesmerized as they watch the Seeker’s slow flight around the room. The flight has to be slow, because there isn’t much room for anything else. While large, the gardens are still not open skies, leaving the Seeker the space to only fly a few paces in any one direction, before he is forced to turn and circle back another way.

He keeps at it though, and it is only a sound to his left that prompts Megatronus to look away from the flier for a moment, his optics dropping back down to the garden around him— and a pair of mechs who had previously escaped his notice. His optics catch sight of the red and yellow guards from before, and he blinks, realising that they must have accompanied the Singer to the Gardens for his flight.

The mechs seem to be watching him with interest, and he notes that the yellow one has one of Starscream’s robes draped over his arm, the fluttering fabric no doubt too cumbersome for the mech to wear while flying.

The sight of the guards seems to make Orion slightly nervous, but Megatronus only nods at them, glad for Orion’s sake that they aren’t the more hostile set of guards. He hasn’t interacted much with the Singer’s guards, but he gets the feeling that the yellow and red ones are less likely to make trouble for him and his palace guest.

His suspicion proves correct, the mechs only scanning them briefly and casting a quick glance at each other— something strangely knowing in their optics— before they turn back and nod at him, more or less giving permission for him to proceed farther into the gardens.

He sets off quickly, Orion following along behind as they start off on one of the winding silver paths that cut through the garden. He has never been to the Gardens before, so he doesn’t really know the best place to meet with the Singer… but to be honest, right now he just needs to get the mech’s _attention._

“I’ve never seen a Seeker fly before,” Orion whispers awestruck behind him, the mech’s optics still on the slowly drifting flier above them.

Megatronus only hums in response, his optics mostly focused on the path as they pass under a towering purple crystal cut into a spiral. His experience with Seekers is rather limited, although he does recall seeing a few flight shows above Kaon. Those had been full of flips and tricks that the enclosed nature of the Gardens simply does not allow.

He gets distracted from the contrast between the two kinds of flying when a slight change in the engines above them prompts him to look up, and he realises that the Singer has spotted them, the mech turning in his flight and heading back towards them.

“Oh, he’s coming!” Orion announces a klick later, and Megatronus glances around, noting a slight widening in the path in front of them, the extra space soon to be a necessity as the Seeker approaches.

“Com’on,” he says quickly to Orion, his Kaon dialect slipping out in his haste as he grabs the mech’s arm and tugs him over to the clearing. He comes easily, and soon they are both waiting in the open space, squinting up towards the ceiling as the Seeker circles once more before finally transforming, the mech as graceful as ever as he comes to land down in front of them.

Orion gasps slightly at the transformation, and Megatronus can’t help smiling a little at that, noting how the Singer’s optics glance over him for a moment, before turning to scan his new companion.

His entire frame stops upon catching sight of Orion, his optics widening in surprise as his wings stiffen, his gaze frozen on the red and blue mech in front of him. Megatronus can’t help blinking at the reaction, and his bemusement only grows as he watches Starscream’s surprise soon be replaced by an actual smile, the mech seemingly pleased at the sight of the new mech standing before him.

 _I wonder why?_ he muses quietly, his optics flicking over the Singer. There is no way he actually _knows_ who Orion is… unless… could the Fates he is connected to show him this? Is that possible?

He doesn’t really have any way of knowing, and for lack of anything better to do, he takes a half-step forward, calling the Singer’s attention to him as he moves to introduce Orion. “Singer Starscream,” he says carefully, his tone as respectful as always as he addresses him. “This is Orion Pax, he has come to help me interpret your songs.”

Starscream’s optics flash at that, and the mech’s smile turns into a satisfied grin, the Seeker clearly completely on-board with their plan. He nods once, before his wings sweep up and he steps forward, coming almost within arm’s reach of them.

Megatronus can’t help noting that this is the closest he has come to him this whole time, and he watches the Seeker with interest as the mech’s gaze focuses calm and steady on Orion’s face.

Next to him, Orion shifts a little under the intense gaze, but while he may stutter slightly with nervousness, it doesn’t take long for him to explain to the waiting Singer what they want to do with his translation software.

“What word did you want him to say?” he asks, once the explanation is over, and Megatronus soon finds Starscream’s optics fixing curiously onto him instead.

“Skin,” he says simply, and he thinks he sees a brief smile flicker over Starscream’s face as he speaks. He can’t be sure though, because the mech’s helm ducks away in the same moment, his gaze turning back to Orion as his wings flick up behind him and he waits for his queue to sing.

In front of him, Orion readies his pad and gives him a nod, his optic ridges furled in concentration as he listens to Starscream sing the same word, the notes reminiscent to those from the night before.

“I’ll just need a klick for it to run,” he mumbles as he squints down at the datapad in his servos. “Almost— ah, there!” He turns to Starscream, angling the pad towards him. “What glyph set is it? Do you know?”

Starscream leans in, getting closer to Orion only out of necessity as he scrutinises the list of words displayed on the pad. Megatronus can’t help smiling at the scene, the two mech’s bent over the pad, their faces wearing matching expressions of concentration as Starscream searches for the right glyph to match the word he had sung.

At last, he chooses one, and gives Orion a satisfied nod as he steps back again, slipping back out of reaching distance.

Orion doesn’t seem to notice the retreating Seeker, his gaze mostly focused down on his pad as he flicks his optics over the translation offered. “Oh,” he gasps, his voice hushed in realisation. He vents sharply and his optics widen, his gaze jumping up to meet his as a smile grows on his face. “Of course!”

Megatronus can’t help the flare of excitement that wells up in his spark at the mech's reaction, his own optics widening as he takes a step closer to take a look at the pad. “What is it?” he asks. “Did you find something?”

Orion grins and flips the pad to show him. “It’s old _Seeker Kant_ ,” he announces, as though the answer should have been obvious to them this entire time. “No _wonder_ — it means protoform. Like armour. He is using an ancient dialect, _that’s_ why we couldn’t understand him.”

Megatronus blinks in startled realisation, his gaze darting between Orion and Starscream as he takes in their discovery. The solution feels startlingly simple. Hadn't he read somewhere that Seekers claimed to sometimes recognise the Singers songs? Seekers are a musical race in general, it makes sense that — if the Singer is indeed in touch with musical forms of communication — that his songs would often be of _Seeker_ origins.

He thinks back to the one unintelligible song the Singer had sung him, the words seemingly not even in his own language, and his mouth drops open, his optics darting up to meet Starscream’s. “Your other song,” he says, his words tripping over themselves in his excitement at his dawning theory. “The one in the other language— can you sing it?”

Starscream blinks at him, seemingly surprised by the request, before a flicker of a smile flies across his face and he clasps his servos behind his back, his shoulders straightening as he prepares to sing.

 _“Le pire,_ ” he starts, the note soaring up to the sky the same as last time, Orion’s optic ridges furling again as he focuses on recording and translating the foreign song. _“C'est pas la méchanceté des hommes...”_ the Singer continues, his optics coming to settle on Megatronus knowingly. _“Mais l'silence des autres qui font tous semblant d'hésiter…”_

He trails off after that and looks over expectantly towards Orion, silence settling over them as they wait for the translation software to catch up. “Almost got it… there,” Orion mutters before sitting back, looking satisfied as the datapad begins to play a tinny, robotic sounding translation.

_The worst, is not the wickedness of mechs ... But the silence of others who all pretend to hesitate._

Megatronus can’t help the slight stutter of his vents as he listens to the translation, the previously incomprehensible song suddenly _much_ more significant. His optics jump up to meet the Singer’s, and he finds himself met with a calm, steady gaze, the look doing nothing but confirming his thoughts

“It’s Seeker Kant,” Orion tells him quietly, his voice calling over his attention, the mech’s own serious expression indicating that he too, had been able to pick up on the implications of the Singer’s words. “It's… it’s the modern Seeker Kant, so a bit different from the ancient form from earlier.”

Megatronus swallows and nods, his CPU spinning at the implications of their translations. Is this part of why everyone believes the Singer cannot be understood? Something so _simple?_ How hard can it be to run a translation software for him— or have another Seeker simply translate any foreign words?

Actually… “Why aren’t there any Seekers here, meant to help translate?” he finds himself asking, his mouth mostly moving by itself as he thinks over what he had just learned.

The question is mostly an idle muse, but out of the corner of his optic, he catches sight of the Singer drawing away from him at his words, his expression suddenly shuttering closed as he ducks his chin, and his wings pull up tight behind him. Megatronus can’t help staring at the flinch, Starscream’s reaction to the suggestion of other Seekers sending alarm bells ringing in his helm.

Hadn't he wondered previously why there is no Seeker delegation here at the trade-talks? The reveal of Starscream’s Seeker Kant makes the gaping absence of the race seem even more obvious. Why are there no Seekers in the palace? Wouldn’t having some here make it easier to understand the Singer?

Before he can open his mouth to ask any of those questions – or perhaps respond to Starscream’s sudden tense expression – a sound from behind the Singer causes him to look up, and he spots the yellow guard from before, his blue optics flicking over them as he approaches, Starscream’s robe still draped over one arm.

“Flying time is over,” he says quietly, something almost apologetic in his gaze as he turns to Starscream, holding out the robe in a physical testament to his statement.

His words seem to catch Starscream’s attention completely, his wings sweeping up, and then down as he turns to stare at the mech. Something flashes over his face before he shifts and lifts his helm up to look towards the glass ceiling above them. He remains completely motionless, and Megatronus watches mutely, unable to read his expression as he looks towards the sky.

A klick later and the mech vents out a sigh, his wings flicking briefly as he looks down and steps silently towards the yellow guard, his face settling into a mask of calm acceptance as he extends an arm and allows himself to be helped into his robe, the yellow mech taking extra care as he helps the Seeker’s wings through the slits in the robe and steps away.

That finished, Megatronus watches as Starscream turns back to them, his expression mild and controlled as he sweeps down into a bow of farewell, his wings dipping gracefully behind him.

“ _Goodbye,”_ he sings, his voice no more than a soft whisper, and Megatronus watches him leave, his CPU buzzing with more questions than answers.

oOo

There is no denying that his recent discovery with the Singer’s Seeker Kant is significant, and before he and Orion part ways, he has the mech download the translation software onto a datapad of his own, for when he next visits the Singer.

Because he will be visiting the Singer again.

He now knows for sure the Singer is trying to say something important— and he is fairly certain that the Singer has been _trying_ to say something important for a long time, and that no one has actually _heard_ him for far too long. 

_Fools said I,_ he had sung _, You do not know…Silence like a cancer grows…_

He is definitely trying to say something. And he has a growing suspicion as to _what._

So, the next orn, after the bulk of his delegation meetings, he finds himself once again making his way down to the Seeker’s wing of the palace, translation datapad in his subspace and a confident spring of hope in his step.

Maybe this orn he can finally make some progress with the Singer. What that progress will be, he doesn’t know, and so far, he has kept most of his suspicions quiet from the rest of his Kaon delegation— even if they do find his interest in the Singer slightly intriguing.

Once he knows what he is getting into, he will think about involving them, for now he just needs to try to listen to the Singer.

As he approaches the doorway to the Singer’s tower though, he finds his plans hampered by the guards in the way. It is the same yellow and red pair from before, but unlike before, when they hadn't interfered with his efforts to contact the Seeker, they now stand tensely and closer together in front of the door, blocking the entrance.

His steps slow as he approaches, and his optics flick over the pair, trying to find a reason for their change in behaviour. Is it because of what had happened last orn with Orion—?

He comes to a stop in front of them and finds the red one glancing towards him, his optics flicking over his large grey frame. “The Singer is unavailable right now,” he says quietly, his optics darting back to the door behind him before glancing towards him again. “Sentinel Prime is here to see him.”

Oh. He blinks in surprise. For some reason he had forgotten that the Singer’s main purpose is to sing _for the Prime_ , and he had not been expecting said Prime to pay a visit to his resident Seeker.

“I see,” he says quietly, his voice low so that it doesn’t carry through the open doorway to where he knows the Singer and the Prime must be. “I will come back another time then.”

Disappointed, he turns away, only to stop up short as a black servo shoots out to grab his arm, the red guard’s optics staring boldly up at him as he turns back in surprise.

“ _Sideswipe,”_ the other guard hisses, the mech’s optics flicking between them and the doorway as he shifts his weight uncomfortably on his pedes.

Megatronus watches wide-opticed as the red guard— Sideswipe pulls his intense gaze away and looks towards the other guard, his servo never leaving his wrist as they seem to engage in a silent conversation with only their optics.

“Sunstreaker,” he whispers finally, something pleading in his voice as his optics flick once towards the open doorway. Megatronus watches as Sunstreaker’s jaw clenches and his lips purse in discomfort, before he lets out a quiet vent and glances away, his shoulder struts slumping slightly.

His optics flick once up to meet his, before they glance away again, and he doesn’t look up as he opens his mouth to speak. “You’ll probably find…” he starts slowly, his voice hushed and his shoulders stiff, his gaze remaining pointedly off to the side. “…listening to the Prime’s visits is… enlightening.”

His optics flick up once to his, and Megatronus can only nod in shock, his own optics turning to stare towards the open doorway, wondering what on Cybertron he has just gotten himself into. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
> I wanted to have an in-universe reason for why Starscream sings “Earth” songs. In this case, he is just singing older Seeker songs, or straight Seeker Kant. Hope that made sense!
> 
> Now, we’ve got Sentinel’s session with the Singer…
> 
>  **Song in the order they appear** (surprisingly not much this chapter):   
> [Words as Weapons](https://youtu.be/5zbe3RdLlJs), by Birdy  
> [Le Pire](https://youtu.be/VTtOdkbn4LM), by Maitre Gims  
> [Goodbye](https://youtu.be/EAmF7xfhnJw), by Glenn Morrison feat. Islove


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Megatronus listens in on the Prime... and learns some more of the Singer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for abuse and brief self-harm.

He imagines that it probably isn’t exactly _proper_ to eavesdrop on the Prime’s sessions with the Singer. In fact, he can imagine that it is probably a serious faux pas… but… he can’t help remembering the brief look of distaste the Prime had worn at dinner a few orns ago. And the fact that Starscream’s guards are willing to step out of line and tell him to wait?

Something _must_ be happening.

He supposes it is a good thing that the Singer doesn’t actually have a _door_ , because the open doorway allows the voices from inside to be clearly heard, and he sits back to listen, Sideswipe letting go of him once he knows their message has been clearly received.

“Singer.”

His optics dart up as he hears the sharp voice of Sentinel Prime echo from the room beyond, the mech’s tone flat and vaguely disinterested. “Sing me a song.”

He finds his brow furling at that, the Prime’s tone vastly different from his own more respectful approach. He supposes the Prime might get used to the Singer’s power, and might therefore lose some of his initial reverence for him… but to be so blunt and demanding hardly seems necessary.

He doesn’t have to wait long for Starscream’s response, the mech’s voice equally sharp and jarring as he begins to sing his song of choice. “ _Incy wincy_ spi _-der–_ ” he starts, something practically accusatory in his voice as he spits out the words.

Megatronus blinks at the nonsense song from before, a flare of shock lighting up in his spark at the fact that the Singer would bark out such a song at the Prime. His optics jump to the guards in front of him, and he finds them both deliberately staring straight ahead of themselves, their shoulders tight and stiff with tension as they listen.

He finds out why a klick later.

“ _ENOUGH!”_ the Prime roars, his enraged voice cutting Starscream off mid-song, the single word echoing off the metal walls with a vengeance. Megatronus’ helm darts up as he hears the Prime stomp forward several paces, the sound of his sharp vents reaching his audios from all the way outside the room.

“Must you try my patience?” he hears the mech hiss, his voice practically venomous as he snarls at the Seeker. He can’t actually see him, but his mind still flashes with an image of the Prime leaning menacingly over the Singer, absolutely infuriated by his cheek. “Do you think I enjoy coming here any more than you?” he snaps.

From out in the hall, Megatronus hears the Prime’s engines growl in a low threat, and his sparkbeat quickens for a moment before he hears the mech take a small step back. “Sing me a song, Singer,” he grinds out.

There is a moment of silence where he can hear the quiet, tense vents of Starscream himself, before the Singer begins to sing once more.

“ _Hello darkness, my old—”_ he starts, singing the song he had heard not that long ago. He doesn’t get far though, his voice cut off a klick later by a deep growl from the Prime himself.

“ _No_ ,” he bites out pointedly, Megatronus’ optics widening as he interrupts the song _again._ “Don’t be stubborn,” he snaps, silence falling over the room again as Megatronus waits to see how Starscream will react.

The mech remains quiet for a moment, the two seemingly in a standoff. After a klick, he hears the Singer vent, and as he starts to sing again, it becomes obvious that he isn’t very impressed with the Prime.

 _“Congratulations_ ,” he gets out, his voice shaky with anger, the word sharp and bitter to the point where Megatronus doesn’t even have to try to imagine the tight, furious look on the Seeker’s face. “ _You have invented a new kind of stupid,_ ” he continues acidly, and he feels his optics widen at the insult, the guards in front of him tensing.

 _“A 'damage you can never undo' kind of stupid,”_ Starscream continues, his voice growing louder and more insistent as he sings. “ _An 'open all the cages in the—”_

He chokes off with a cry of pain and a sudden clang of metal on metal, the sound of a slap echoing through the hall and lingering in the air. Megatronus tenses at the sound, his CPU whirling in shock as Starscream cuts off into complete silence, only the panting of his harsh venting sounding from the room as he recovers.

The slap lights up a fire of rage in his spark and he doesn’t even think as he surges forward. Red fills his vision and outrage boils in his tank as he processes the fact that Sentinel Prime had just _hit the Singer_ because of one of his songs.

He doesn’t really know exactly what his plan is as he moves forward — he imagines barging in on the Prime and confronting him is not generally recommended — but he doesn’t get that far. Almost as soon as he starts moving, he finds servos on him again, Sideswipe’s desperate face looking up at him as he holds him back.

“You can’t!” he hisses, his voice sharp and quiet. His servos press against him and he has an almost frantic expression on his face as he darts his optics back to the doorway. “He can’t know you’re here.”

The look on the mech's face snaps him out of his initial fury, and he pauses to vent, making an effort to keep quiet as he looks over the two guards in front of him. Both of them stand tensely, obviously unhappy with the situation at large, their faces worn and wary as they watch him.

He swallows down a low growl and tries to slow down and think. The guards had been expecting this. They had invited him to stay because they had known to expect this— or something like it. Sentinel Prime’s current treatment of Starscream cannot be an anomaly. This is not the first time this has happened.

He thinks back to the orn before, and how Starscream had kept a very careful arms-width of distance between them for most of the session, and he grits his denta, venting slowly again as he looks down at the guards.

 _He can’t know you’re here_ , Sideswipe had said, and he imagines that Sentinel Prime probably won’t take too kindly to being caught by an outsider. Most likely these guards will face a backlash— and perhaps even Starscream himself will suffer from it.

And what will he actually be able to do? If he barges in right now, he has no doubt that the Prime will simply throw him out of the palace completely. It isn’t hard to imagine the outcome of a battle between one Kaon delegate and the Prime.

 _I can’t do anything_ , he realises suddenly, deflating slightly as he stares up at the doorway. He doesn’t have any power in this situation. He can’t actually stop it.

His optics drop down to the guards’ tight expressions, and he thinks they understand exactly what he is feeling. If Sentinel’s poor treatment of the Singer is a regular occurrence, then he imagines standing guard for their sessions is unpleasant.

They had still reached out to him though, despite the difficulty of their situation, they had very purposely revealed it to him.

So, they had wanted him to know about it. They had wanted him to know about Sentinel’s treatment of the Singer. Beyond the abuse, it is obvious the Prime has no interest in actually _listening_ to him, which is _important_ because Megatronus knows for sure that he is _trying to say something_.

He vents slowly once more and settles back with a finality, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker relaxing slightly as he backs down. He will listen for now. He can’t do anything yet, but the more he learns about the Singer, the more he is beginning to understand how _not right_ his situation is, and the more he wants to be able to change it.

Not that he knows how to _do_ that yet.

“Are you _done?_ ” his helm snaps up at the Prime’s irritated voice, the mech seemingly referring to Starscream’s pointed singing. Starscream doesn’t answer, but he hears Sentinel vent sharply and step back, a satisfied edge to his voice as he speaks next.

“Sing me a song.”

Megatronus finds his jaw clenching again at the mech’s tone, and his servos curl into fists by his side as he listens to hear what Starscream will do. A beat of silence follows the Prime’s demand, the tension heavy in the air before he finally starts singing, his voice small and quiet as it drifts out to the hallway.

“ _Everything is awesome,”_ he starts thinly, and Megatronus finds himself blinking at the unexpected words. “ _Everything is cool when you're part of a team._ ” In front of him, he sees the guards relaxing slightly, and he realises that they must know this song will not provoke the Prime.

 _“Everything is awesome,”_ Starscream continues, his voice sounding tired and worn as he performs. “ _When you're living out a dream.”_

 _It’s a placating song,_ he realises suddenly, his optics widening. It is obvious the Prime doesn’t want to hear any of Starscream's more ominous songs of warning. He had actively tried to silence those songs, barraging the Singer until he had relented and begun to sing him something nice and meaningless.

 _Everything is awesome_ , he sings, because he is supposed to give advice to the Prime, and the Prime had refused to accept anything other than a conciliatory pat on the back. The Singer is supposed to guide the Prime with his songs, but that is pointless if he won’t listen to anything other than what he wants to hear.

 _Tell me what you want to hear,_ Starscream had sung once. _Songbirds always eat. If their song is sweet to hear. Songbirds are not dumb._

Obviously, the Singer is not exactly impressed by his relationship with the Prime.

He continues singing the lie though, finally giving in to assuring the Prime that everything is, in fact, fine, and that he doesn’t need to change anything at all. The words settle sourly in Megatronus’ chest, and he can’t help thinking of all the reasons he had fought and sacrificed to become a Kaon delegate in the first place.

He knows all too well the issues of inequality on Cybertron, and he is guessing the Singer is just as aware.

But the Prime will not listen to anything but songs that tell him he is doing a perfect job.

Back in the room, the song ends, and Megatronus listens as a resentful silence falls, Starscream refusing to sing anything else for the Prime. 

Sentinel doesn’t seem to mind. “There,” he says, sounding satisfied. “Was that so hard?”

Starscream doesn’t answer, and Sentinel scoffs. “Glare all you want, Singer,” he says sharply. “It won’t do anything.” Starscream remains silent, and Megatronus hears a sound like Sentinel turning away, but a klick later he turns back. “Wear the black robe for dinner next cycle,” he says casually, as though dictating the style of the Singer is within his rights as the Prime.

For some reason, the idea sets him on edge, but Megatronus doesn’t have long to think about it, before Sideswipe is shifting in front of him, his optics flicking nervously towards the doorway.

“You should go,” he says, looking back at him. “He’ll be leaving soon.” His gaze darts up to his face for a moment, before his glossa darts out to lick his lips and he casts a glance over towards Sunstreaker. A moment later and Megatronus finds himself once again pinned by the red mech’s intense gaze. “You should come back after,” he says slowly, shifting to stand up straighter. “The songs he sings—” he swallows. “He sings when he is alone, too.”

Megatronus nods slowly at that, wondering what kinds of things these guards are used to overhearing, and what they know. He vents and throws one last glance at the doorway, before slipping away before his presence can be discovered by the Prime.

He doesn’t go far, only moving down a few corridors, following the path the servant had led him on last orn. Once he is far away enough not to be obvious, he stops and waits in an out-of-the-way corner, pretending to be completely enthralled by the art on the walls as he waits for the Prime to leave.

Once he is certain that enough time has passed for the Prime to be well away from the Singer’s wing, he turns back. He keeps his pedes light as he walks so that they don’t echo down the hall, his CPU buzzing with curiosity over what the guards expect him to hear.

He catches sight of them again as he approaches, the two of them back at their normal positions by the doorway, their optics tracking his movements as he comes closer. Like last time, he stops, his optics darting over the guards for a moment before he turns towards the doorway, straining his audios as he waits to hear what the Singer could be singing by himself.

The Singer’s voice is sharp and fast as he listens, the mech already halfway through a set of passionate lyrics. _“Burn everything you love, then burn the—”_ he pauses, clicking his glossa, _“—Ashes.”_

Megatronus blinks at the intensity of the lyrics, and it is obvious to him that the song is chalk full of meaning, and he has a sneaking suspicion of who it is directed toward.

“ _In the end everything collides,”_ Starscream continues rapidly. “ _My childhood spat back at the monster that you see.”_ He pauses for a vent and his voice grows even stronger, emotion straining at his voice as he sings the next line. “ _My songs know what_ you did in the dark.”

Megatronus feels his vents stutter, his optics widening as he listens to the line. The meaning could not be more clear. The Seeker is singing at the Prime, his tone full of bitterness and rage now that he is safely alone. He is aware of the issues of Cybertron, and probably aware of countless issues with the Prime himself. His songs know _exactly_ what is happening behind closed doors— that is what they are _for_ — and just because Sentinel won't listen to him doesn’t mean the Seeker won’t sing it.

After the last powerful line, the Seeker breaks off into humming, further emphasising his last few words and leaving Megatronus to drop his optics down to flick over the guards. Their gaze meet his, and he knows they also know exactly what the Singer had been saying.

 _This…_ _is important_ , he thinks, feeling very, very glad that he had decided to give listening to the Singer a chance.

oOo

Even with knowing some of what the Singer is trying to imply with his songs, he doesn’t really have much he can _do_ about it yet. The Singer’s words are not exactly _news._ Everyone _knows_ that low-level corruption happens, and obviously most people— including the Prime— are willing to just ignore it.

If he tries to bring it up, he knows he won’t be taken seriously. Most mechs are more inclined to live blindly, rather than confront the actual issues in front of them. Also, the fact that he had gotten his information from the Singer probably won’t lend him any credibility. The Singer’s reputation is thoroughly stuck as ‘incomprehensible’ right now.

He has a feeling he can guess why certain people may have wanted that narrative to stick.

All in all, he is left without much recourse for action right now. He tells his fellow delegates a little of what he knows— but they aren't really surprised. They are willing to believe what he says about the Singer, but there isn’t really anything they can do about what he says.

But…

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have hope that that might change at _some_ point. According to legend, Starscream should be able to see the future, so, if he is willing to try to reach out to him and reveal the dark side of Cybertronian politics, then that _must_ mean there is hope of _doing_ something about it eventually.

For now though, all he can really do is reconvene with Orion and update him on his discoveries, and travel back to visit the Singer— all while hoping the mech might be able to aid him in his efforts to fix some of the problems he has revealed.

Instead, he learns some more of the cruelty the Singer seems to live under.

It is an orn after his discovery of Sentinel Prime’s dark side, and he can’t help feeling slightly apprehensive as he makes his way down to the Singer’s wing. His steps echo down the empty halls as he walks, his translation datapad in his servos as his optics dart up to scan the guards in front of the door.

It is Sideswipe and Sunstreaker again, and he is starting to wonder when he will see the other two guards. He doesn’t know their names, but they had seemed much more hostile than this pair. He imagines they probably would not have tried to make him stay and listen to the Prime’s session with the Singer.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker seem to be on his side though, and he nods subtly at them as he comes closer. It probably won’t be a good idea to act _too_ familiar with them, but by the slight brightening of their optics, he knows they appreciate and acknowledge the gesture.

He walks past them into the room, and all thoughts of either of the guards fly out of his helm.

The room is the same as always, the sun from the skylights and the window seat filtering down to shine onto the staircases and shelves of datapads. None of it really registers though, because his optics are drawn to the middle of the room, where, curled up on the floor next to the berth, he can see the Singer. The mech’s optics are wide and unseeing, his vents harsh and strained as he sits by the berth and— and mumbles incomprehensible lyrics to himself.

The words are too soft for him to understand, and he doesn’t even really think the Singer knows he is here, the mech continuing to stare blankly in front of himself as he rocks slightly and his sharp digits flutter jerkily over the plating of his arms. He is wearing a robe like usual, but the purple gauze is twisted and torn under him, the fabric caught in his joints and no doubt extremely uncomfortable. In front of him, the Seeker’s discordant humming rises in pitch and his servos drop down to tug sharply at the mesh.

He can’t help staring, his vents stalled and his servos frozen on his datapad as he tries to take in what he is seeing. He hadn't been expecting this. All the other times he has come, Starscream has been an immaculate picture of grace. To see him like this— to see him curled up on the floor and mumbling like a mad-mech—

His train of thought cuts off as he watches the Seeker’s servos jerk again before they snap up and slash across the plating of his arm, his vents harsh and ragged as thin beads of energon well up under the scratches.

He mumbles another set of lyrics that he doesn’t quite catch, but his CPU is too preoccupied with the Seeker’s self-injury to really pay attention to anything else.

“ _Guards!”_ he calls, a high note of panic in his voice as he stumbles back a step and looks back towards the doorway. He doesn't know what is happening, or why Starscream seems to be having a breakdown, but he knows he cannot leave him like this.

It only takes a klick for the guards to respond to his call, but in that time, Starscream’s servos migrate up to his shoulders. His body rocks and his voice hisses jarringly in his throat as he claws at the robe across his back, no doubt leaving another set of thin scratches across his wings and shoulders— not that he really seems to notice the pain.

A klick later and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker burst into the room, their optics taking everything in in an instant, their gaze zeroing in on the destressed Singer on the floor.

“ _Frag_ ,” Sunstreaker curses instantly, a look of controlled panic settling over his face as he darts forward, making a beeline for the hunched Seeker. “Sideswipe, call Ratchet!” he snaps, something about his reaction and tone of voice making Megatronus suspect that this is not the first time either of them have dealt with this.

Back on the floor, Starscream continues to tug irritably at his robe, his vents loud and painful as Sunstreaker reaches him, the mech instantly grabbing his servos to keep him from further injuring himself.

Starscream jerks at his touch, but otherwise he doesn’t really seem to see him, his optics darting around erratically as he shivers and continues to mumble. “ _And I can go anywhere I want,”_ he mutters, Megatronus finally catching onto some of the words, his optics wide as he looks over the scene. _“Anywhere I want,”_ Starscream continues, his voice growing louder and more insistent as he jerks his servos in Sunstreaker’s grip. _“Just_ not home.”

His vents stutter at that and he ducks his chin, a thin keen rising up from his throat as his servos flex and he jerks in Sunstreaker’s hold again. “ _You're not my homeland anymore,”_ he pants out, tears colouring his voice as he shudders and sings. “ _So what am I defendin' now?_ _You were my town_. _Now I'm in exile seein' you out.”_

Megatronus finds himself swallowing at the emotion in the Singer’s voice, he may not know _exactly_ what he is singing about right now, but it is obvious the mech is in pain — in more ways than one. One look at Sunstreaker’s face shows the mech is just as torn up about this as he feels, and he finds himself hoping that whoever Ratchet is, he comes soon.

Back on the floor, Starscream chokes off and shudders, his optics continuing to stare unseeingly as he hums a few more lines before more lyrics tumble out of his mouth. “ _I gave so many signs,”_ he sings, his voice a high whine. _“Never learned to read my mind— never turned things around— I gave_ so many signs.”

Megatronus’ spark constricts, and his servos tighten on his datapad at the plaintive note in his voice. He has no doubt that these lyrics have to do with the Prime’s refusal to actually _listen_ to the Singer. If Starscream is connected to the Fates, and can interpret them in song, then he imagines the songs don’t _go away_ just because people don’t want to hear them.

He cannot imagine what it must be like, _knowing_ things, _important_ things, but being unable to _do_ anything about it without being silenced.

Well, actually, he can imagine it pretty well, because it is currently playing out in front of him. 

On the floor, Starscream whines and jerks in Sunstreaker’s grip again, his vents thin and ragged as his helm twitches and he grits his denta. “ _I see fire,”_ he hisses, his optics wide and empty as he stares at something only he can see.

His throat flexes as he hums a few trailing notes, his servos twitching from where Sunstreaker has them trapped, before he begins to sing again, the pleading note in his voice back at full force. “ _And if the night is burning, I will cover my eyes,”_ he sings, before shuddering and closing his optics, his voice thin with despair. _“For if the dark returns, then my brothers will die.”_

He breaks off into a muffled sob after that, a hysterical edge to his vents as he ducks his chin into his chest, Sunstreaker looking absolutely stricken as he sits crouched in front of him.

Thankfully, Ratchet arrives not long after that, the mech bursting into the room with a determined scowl on his face, his paintjob and the med-kit at his side denoting him to be a medic. Megatronus watches as he comes in, the mech’s optics flicking once over the scene, his gaze lingering briefly on him, before just as quickly dismissing him as he looks towards his patient.

“How long has he been like this?” he asks sharply as he marches towards Sunstreaker and Starscream, a no-nonsense tone to his voice as he kneels down next to them and opens his med-kit, his optics flicking analytically over the shaking Seeker.

“We don’t know,” Sunstreaker answers quickly, releasing Starscream’s servos and sitting back slightly to give the medic more space. “We didn’t hear him until a few breems ago.”

Ratchet nods a little distractedly at that, reaching up with lightning quick reflexes to catch Starscream’s twitching servo before it can try to do more damage to its host. “Starscream, it’s Ratchet,” he says when the Seeker jerks in his grip. His voice is slow and careful, and he stares intently at the Singer, but Megatronus isn’t sure how much he is actually heard by the other mech.

“I’m going to give you a sedative, okay?” Ratchet continues, working with one servo as he begins to prepare the shot. “It will help you calm down.”

In front of him, Starscream doesn’t really seem to protest the words, a low hum leaving his throat, before his other servo comes up to paw jerkily at the medic’s. “ _Take me away…”_ he manages to get out, his voice quiet and miserable as he sings to the medic. “ _To better days. Take me away…A hiding place.”_

Across from him, Ratchet’s face flashes with something too fast for Megatronus to read, and he ducks his helm, his lips pressing together as he lets out a sharp vent. “Sorry, ‘Screamer,” he hears the mech mutter as he turns to finish preparing his sedative. “This is the best I can do for right now.”

Megatronus isn’t sure if Starscream registers the medic’s response, but he doesn’t resist as the mech presses the applicator to the side of his neck, administering the sedative with a quiet hiss. “There,” he hears him say, his tone almost soothing as he works with the volatile Seeker. “Now let’s just take a look at what you’ve managed to do to yourself, alright?”

Starscream doesn’t respond, but his vents _do_ seem to be getting a little calmer, his servos remaining limp as Ratchet releases him and begins to look him over. “Let’s get this off,” he hears him say, his optics narrowing in distaste as he looks over the torn robe still clinging to the Seeker’s shoulders. He reaches for the fabric and pulls out a pair of scissors from his med-kit, seeming to care little for the probable expense of the robe as he begins to systematically cut it off the Singer.

Starscream doesn’t resist at all, and soon Ratchet pulls the whole thing away from him, tossing it with distain as he begins to look over the newly revealed damage to the Seeker’s plating.

Megatronus finds his optics flicking over the multiple thin scratches as well, his spark pulsing uncomfortably as he darts his gaze over the mech’s armour. “What’s wrong with him?” he finds himself asking, his optics jumping up to glance over Sideswipe and Sunstreaker before dropping back down to Ratchet. The mech scoffs as he reaches for a disinfectant cloth.

“What’s _wrong_ with him is he needs his trine,” he bites out, bitterness colouring his tone, even as his grip remains soft on the Seeker in front of him.

“Trine?” Megatronus finds himself repeating, the term vaguely familiar. Because he hasn’t interacted much with Seekers before this, he doesn’t know a lot about trines, but he knows they are more or less bonded together, and that they generally benefit from spending time together.

If Starscream has a trine, then— “Where is his trine?” he asks, his CPU flashing back to his previous confusion over the lack of Seekers in the palace. If Seekers could translate for the Singer, and if he needs a trine _anyways_ , then why—

In front of him, Ratchet barks out a sharp laugh and shakes his helm, not looking up at him as he continues to clean out Starscream’s wounds. “Ask the _Prime_ ,” he bites out. “He could tell you.”

“Ratchet,” Sideswipe cuts in before Megatronus can respond, his voice a warning against the borderline treasonous tone the medic had been sporting. Megatronus swallows and watches as Ratchet’s mouth twitches sardonically and he huffs out an irritated vent.

“It doesn’t matter,” he mutters, his optics dropping down as he begins to wrap a mesh sealant around Starscream’s wound. Megatronus watches him silently, his datapad forgotten in his servos as he thinks over his words. It is obvious to him that, like Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, Ratchet is unhappy with the Singer’s treatment — and said treatment seems to be much worse than he had previously thought.

He doesn’t have much longer to think about it though, because Ratchet finishes with his repairs and sits back, his optics hard and narrow as they sweep up to meet his. “He needs to rest,” he says pointedly, his gaze sharp and his crouched form in front of the Singer more of a defensive shield than anything else. “He won’t be singing for you this orn.”

Megatronus thinks back to the Prime’s demanding tone as he had ordered a song out of Starscream, and he thinks of mechs like Firespark, who came to listen to the Singer because the music was ‘only half the show’.

He swallows and takes a step backwards, nodding in respect as he clutches his datapad to his chest. “Of course,” he says quietly.

Ratchet seems to relax at that, and Megatronus watches in silence as he turns back to Starscream, motioning for Sideswipe to come forward and help get him up. “Let’s get you to the berth,” he hears the medic murmur to the drowsy Singer. “You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

Starscream lets out a small groan at that, and his helm twitches sluggishly as he is helped into the berth, his wings hanging low on his back as he lays down heavily. Megatronus begins to turn away, his spark heavy in his chest as the Singer whispers out one final song in response.

 _“Malheur à moi,_ ” he hears him murmur, his voice quiet and slurred with sleep as he settles in the berth. _“Je suis né ici. J'ai voulu m'faire une raison, on m'a dit ‘c'est ainsi’._ ”

The voice fades out as Megatronus exits the room, and he doesn’t really need to guess what the foreign song could be about. After the events of this orn, it seems rather obvious, and the datapad in his servos lights up in a confirmation of his suspicions.

 _Woe is me,_ it reads _. I was born here. I wanted to come to terms with it, they told me ‘that's the way it is’._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the Singer’s condition in Iacon isn’t that great…  
> I enjoyed introducing Ratchet into the scene though.
> 
> **Songs in the order they appear:**
> 
> [Child’s Play](https://www.musixmatch.com/lyrics/Brigham-Young-University-Vocal-Point/Child-s-Play), by BYU Vocal Point (Lyrics)  
> [The Sound of Silence](https://youtu.be/bGLHadex0B0), by Simon and Garfunkel  
> [Congratulations](https://youtu.be/cnVS3X_2h4E), by Lin-Manuel Miranda (Hamilton)  
> [Everything is Awesome](https://youtu.be/0os22NwEqFM), by Tegan and Sara  
> [My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up)](https://youtu.be/Z7YM9gAVeMs), by Fall Out Boy  
> [Tears Ricochet](https://youtu.be/-0llflFd9OI), by Taylor Swift  
> [Exile](https://youtu.be/osdoLjUNFnA), by Taylor Swift  
> [I see fire](https://youtu.be/qchjtnePFaA), by Ed Sheeran  
> [Pocketful of sunshine](https://youtu.be/0btXhLdAuAc), by Natasha Bedingfield  
> [Malheur Malheur](https://youtu.be/upGIsjfqvrk), by Maitre Gims


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Megatronus and Orion learn an explanation for Sentinel's behaviour.

The incident in Starscream’s quarters leaves him shaken, and the next orn after his delegation meetings, he decides to pay a visit to Orion, instead of the resident Seeker.

“What do you know of Seeker trines?” he asks the mech, once they are sequestered away at their usual data-station. The blue light from the screen washes over Orion’s face as he contemplates his question.

“Well, I know Seeker society basically revolves around trines,” he says after a moment. “Trines are almost like a brotherhood. Nearly every Seeker has one.”

Megatronus hums and nods solemnly at that. “And the Singer?” he says quietly. “Does he have a trine?”

In front of him, Orion’s optics widen, and his mouth opens slightly in shock, the mech obviously never having thought about that before. “ _Primus,_ ” he mutters, his optics blinking rapidly as he processes the implications of his statement. “He _must_ have one,” he says, his gaze darting up determinedly to meet his. “I’ll have to research it, but I’ll tell you what I find.”

Megatronus leaves him to it, and he makes his way back to his rooms where the rest of his delegation is waiting, resting up after their long orn of meetings. He feels a little guilty as he thinks of them, because he has to admit he has been neglecting them a little. He is careful to complete all of his delegation duties, but for the most part, all the rest of his focus has been on Starscream and his songs.

Unsurprisingly, the rest of his delegation has noticed.

“Oh, you’re back,” Hook notes as he comes in, the mech laid out on the couch with a set of datapads in his lap. “Did you see the Singer again?”

From across the room, Megatronus sees both Blitzwing and Soundwave perk up slightly at his entrance. The two mechs are over at the table with a game of cards, Soundwave’s symbiote Laserbeak perched and watching them with interest. He offers them all a slight smile and they go back to their game as he comes over to sit on the couch facing Hook.

“I didn’t,” he says, glancing at the mech. “There’s some things I want to look up first.”

Hook nods mildly at that before going back to his datapads, mostly unconcerned with his delegation leader’s leisurely pursuits. The others know a little of Starscream’s treatment, and his own suspicions over the importance of his songs, but they are mostly too busy with their own work to worry about it.

Which is fine with him, he doubts they would be able to help him much right now, Orion is really his main source of aid in this situation.

“You’ll have to hurry with whatever you’re researching,” Blitzwing speaks up, calling his attention over, the mech still mostly focused on the cards in his servos. “We only have a few more orns of meetings left, you know. We’ll be heading back soon.”

Megatronus’ spark drops at the reminder, and he nods slowly. Of course, the trade talks won’t go on forever, already they have been here for several orns, and they only have a few more left until they have to leave.

He only hopes he will have enough time to figure out whatever it is Starscream needs him to do before then.

oOo

With his approaching deadline in mind, he heads down to the archives again the next orn, hoping that Orion will have had enough time to finish his research into the Singer’s trine. 

“Okay,” Orion stands across from him at their data-station, the screen full of multiple windows of research, his optics darting over them as he talks. “I found that there _is_ a precedence for the Singer’s trine to live with him in Iacon.”

He finds his optics widening in surprise at that and he leans forward, scanning the screens in front of him. “I’ve never heard of that before,” he says, and Orion shakes his helm.

“That’s because that hasn’t happened for _vorns_ now,” he says, typing something on the keyboard to bring up a screen of text. “The last known case I could find that addressed the Singer’s trine is from at least _four_ generations ago.” He turns to look at him, his optics solemn. “It has been a very long time since any Seeker other than the Singer has lived in the palace.”

 _But why?_ he thinks, his optics darting over the screen of research. After the incident in Starscream’s room it is obvious that the mech suffers without his trine, so why has the Singer been without such a thing for so long?

“Do you know Starscream’s trine?” he asks after a moment, looking back towards Orion. “Maybe we can get into contact with them.”

Unfortunately, the mech shakes his helm. “I can’t find any records of them at all,” he says, his shoulders slumping as he glances back towards the terminal screens. “And it’s not like Starscream can tell us their names either.”

That… is true. Megatronus hadn't thought of it before, but because Starscream is limited to speaking in song verse — pre- _existing_ song verse — he imagines the mech can’t say _most_ people’s names. He probably can’t even say his _own_ name.

He wonders how isolating that must be.

“I did find some interesting methods of communication Singer’s have used in the past though,” Orion says, catching his attention as he clicks through a few more screens on the terminal. “There’s actually a whole _host_ of methods Primes and Singers have developed over the eons to help understand each other.”

Megatronus leans forward intrigued, and Orion clicks to show an image of a blue Singer with purple wingstripes standing proudly next to a xinthin, the silver metal keys of the musical instrument shining from under her servo.

“This is Silvermeld’s Singer, Nebula,” Orion explains, his optics resting on the femme. “Apparently she had a specific tune she would play on her xinthin for certain people, so that Silvermeld could tell who her songs were about.”

Megatronus nods slowly before looking back up at Orion. “Starscream doesn’t have any instruments though,” he says, a suspicion rising up in his mind as to _why_ that might be.

Orion nods back. “Right,” he says, before reaching into his subspace. “But, I was thinking… maybe these will help.” Megatronus blinks as, from of his subspace, he watches Orion pull out a stack of datasheets, the thin plastic bending slightly in his servos as he shuffles them and angles them towards him.

Megatronus can’t help grinning as he realises what they are. They are pictures. Sheets and sheets of pictures, the stern face of Sentinel Prime staring up at him from the top of the stack.

“I made one of every government official I could think of,” Orion tells him as he pulls the stack back. “I also made one of you, and, well— one of me too.” He shifts his grip on the datasheets and his servo comes up to rub the back of his neck, an embarrassed flush of energon rising to his cheekplates. “Not that I really expect the Singer to be singing about me, but, if I’m there, then he might have something…”

He trails off with a shrug and Megatronus bites back an amused grin. “This is good,” he says, gesturing towards the stack in his arms. “Do you have time to go visit him now? I don’t have much time left in Iacon.”

Orion looks a little startled by the request, but he accepts easily. “After Alpha Trion found out what I was doing, he said I could focus on that,” he says by way of explanation as they turn to make their way back into the palace.

Megatronus nods absentmindedly in response, his CPU shifting towards the Seeker waiting for them further into the palace. He hopes this visit will go better than the last one. 

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are not on guard when they arrive. Instead, it is the same hostile guards from before, their glares carefully hidden behind their visors as they approach. Megatronus’ mouth twitches down slightly at their dark looks, and he finds himself stopping in front of them, Orion stumbling to a halt behind him as he looks over the mechs.

“What are your names?” he asks, the unfriendliness of the guards making him wary of letting them live in anonymity.

At his words, the yellow visor of the one on the left flashes with surprise and silence falls for a moment as the guards glance at each other out of the corner of their optics, obviously questioning his motives. At last, the helicopter bot with the red visor shifts, and Megatronus can practically _feel_ his glare as he looks at him.

“Vortex,” he says gruffly, his helicopter blades rattling ominously on his back.

He can feel Orion press up closer behind him at the mech’s hostility, but Megatronus hadn't fought his way out of the Pits of Kaon to be intimidated by a palace guard. He returns the mech’s narrow-opticed stare with one of his own, before he turns and raising an optic ridge at the other guard.

The tank bot shifts and scoffs, his optics rolling from behind his visor before he finally answers his question. “Brawl.”

Megatronus nods at that, filing their names away as he turns to slip past them, Orion trailing close behind as they step fully into the Singer’s room. Still apprehensive of finding Starscream in a similar state as last time, he sweeps his optics over the room, his gaze jumping over the collection of chairs and zeroing in on the berth, where he can see the mech sitting with a datapad in his lap.

Thankfully, he seems to be in his right mind this time, and his optics widen as he sits up and sets his datapad aside, the navy-blue folds of his current robe swirling around him as he stands. Megatronus’ optics catch on the fabric, and he can’t help thinking of the last time he had seen the Seeker, and how he had tugged and clawed at the mesh as though he couldn’t stand to be wearing it.

“Starscream,” Orion says, speaking up as Megatronus blinks and realises he has been standing in silence for a few klicks for seemingly no reason. “I hope you’re feeling okay.”

A genuine look of surprise seems to flicker over Starscream’s face at Orion’s inquiry after his health, but a klick later and he smiles and nods, seemingly pleased by his question.

Next to him, Megatronus hears Orion let out a small vent of relief, and the mech throws him a brief glance, before cautiously taking a step closer to the Singer. “I brought you something,” he says, moving to pull his datasheets out of his subspace again. “I thought it might make it easier for us to understand you.”

By the berth, Starscream looks intrigued by his offer, and he comes a few paces closer, his wings fluttering loosely on his back as he leans forward to look at Orion’s stack. Megatronus can tell the moment he realises what it is, a sudden bright smile breaking across his face as he darts his helm up to look at Orion.

“ _You are perfect,”_ he murmurs, and Megatronus can’t help grinning as the words bring another flush of energon to Orion’s cheekplates. Starscream seems amused by him too, a smile on his face as he actually comes in close enough to the mech to pull the stack out of his servos.

He retreats back to an arm’s distance quickly enough, but Megatronus can’t help the slight warming of his spark at the sight. A klick later and his optic ridges furl in confusion as he watches Starscream rifle a little through the stack, before stepping over and crouching down to set them under his berth, the sweeping curtains hiding them from view.

“…What are you doing?” Orion asks finally, and Starscream glances up at them. An unreadable expression flickers over his face, before he brings one digit up to his lips in a shushing gesture.

“ _Got a secret,”_ he sings cryptically, and Megatronus finds his tanks souring slightly at his implications. The fact that Starscream feels he must hide the pictures probably isn't promising.

“Can’t you put it in your subspace?” Orion asks, his digits twisting together as he looks at the Singer. “It would probably be safe in there.”

A dry smile twitches onto Starscream’s face and he shakes his helm as he stands, his optics going distant for a moment as he thinks of his response. “ _Locked away,”_ he sings finally, looking up at Orion with solemn optics.

Megatronus has to fight to keep his engines from growling in distaste at that. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that the Singer is denied access to his subspace — the limitation just one of a growing list — but he can’t help scowling anyways.

In front of him, Starscream shifts. Something about the nervous flutter of his robe makes him look up, and he realises that the Seeker is watching him apprehensively, a slight tension to his wings as he flicks his optics over his stormy expression.

He buries a wince and smooths out his face, it isn’t hard for him to imagine why the mech would be wary of dark looks, and he hopes he hasn’t frightened him too much. Thankfully, Starscream seems to relax as his expression clears, and he takes the opportunity to bring up their reason for visiting — besides Orion’s pictures.

“The trade talks are almost over,” he tells Starscream, stepping forward slightly and drawing his gaze. “That means I will be leaving soon.” Starscream’s optics widen slightly at that, and Megatronus swallows. “I don’t know if there is something specific you need to tell me,” he continues. “But you should probably do it soon.”

Silence falls for a moment as Starscream stares at him, before he nods sharply and crouches back down again by the berth, reaching under for his pictures. He doesn’t pull them all out, instead he only grabs one, and Megatronus feels his tank swoop as he realises who it is.

In his servos, Starscream holds the picture of Sentinel Prime.

 _This is definitely going to be interesting_ , he thinks, as he darts his gaze up to meet Starscream’s steady stare.

What follows turns out to be one of his most frustrating and confusing sessions with the Seeker yet, mainly because it is obvious the mech has something _very important_ to tell them, but there are, evidently, no songs that incapsulate his message entirely.

He starts off by pointing at the picture. “ _Everything was nothing as it seems,”_ he states, his gaze intense as he looks at them. Megatronus nods slightly at that. It seems obvious to him that Sentinel Prime’s outward persona does not match up well with his private treatment of Starscream. But the Singer should already know he knows that, so why _that_ is the thing he needs to tell him…

And then things get more complicated.

In front of him, Starscream looks pleased at his reaction to his first line, before his optic ridges furl and he clutches the picture towards himself. His wings flicks slightly as he begins to pace, a concentrated look on his face as he darts his optics around and tries to think of the next line he needs.

Evidently, translating what he knows into song — connection to the Fates or not — is not a simple process.

“ _It's a false god,”_ he says finally, pausing in his pacing to look at them, his optics flicking once to the picture before coming back up to meet his.

They can only stare back at him in confusion.

 _Everything is nothing as it seems, it’s a false god,_ Megatronus thinks, trying to tease apart the meaning of the words as Orion pulls out his translation datapad. The session stalls for a moment as he steps forward to have Starscream sing the last line of lyrics again, his optics narrowed in concentration as he works on confirming what the last word means.

“It’s another word for Primus,” he reports after a few breems, glancing over at Starscream. “He’s saying it is a false Primus.”

Starscream nods back at him. “Yes,” he says simply.

Megatronus blinks, and can’t help giving a slight start at the word. “You can answer yes or no questions?” he sputters, his CPU whirling at the revelation. He supposes it should be logical to think that there could be songs containing the words ‘yes’ and ‘no’, but people seemed so convinced that the Singer can’t be understood, that he had kind of assumed that such a simple form of communication was just not possible.

Obviously, people are more determined to brush off the Singer than he had first realised.

Starscream seems amused and pleased by his statement, and he nods again, his wings fanning behind him as Orion speaks up and he turns to look over.

“So…” he says slowly, his optics flicking up from the picture. “You’re talking about Sentinel Prime.”

Starscream nods. “Yes,” he says again.

“And you’re calling him a false Primus?”

Another nod.

Orion stares at him. “But… he… isn't Primus?” His optics flick to Megatronus for a klick, bewilderment swirling in their depths. For his part, Megatronus can’t help feeling similarly. He can’t guess why Starscream is making claims about Sentinel Prime’s celestial status, since it seems pretty obvious to him that Sentinel is _definitely_ not Primus.

In front of them, Starscream vents out a frustrated sigh, his wings flicking as he lifts his optics up to the ceiling in exasperation. Silence falls for a moment as he tries to think of another way to say his piece.

After a klick, his optics drop back down, and he meets their gaze determinately, his optics bright and his wings pulled up behind him as he points sharply at the picture in his servo. “ _Who cares if you disagree?”_ he starts, dropping his gaze to look directly at the picture, as though speaking to it. “ _You are not me._ _Who made you king of anything?”_

His optics jump up to look at them again, giving Megatronus the impression that the last line is probably important. “ _So you dare tell me who to be?”_ Starscream continues, his voice soaring on the quick high notes as he glances back down at the picture. “ _Who died, and made you king of anything?”_

Thanks to the mech’s actions throughout the song, Megatronus is still pretty sure they are still talking about Sentinel Prime, but what _else_ Starscream means with his lyrics…

“Are… are you talking about how Sentinel doesn't listen to you?” he asks tentatively, thinking over the words ‘so you dare tell me who to be’ and ‘who cares if you disagree’. His guess doesn’t seem to be the right one though, because Starscream huffs out a vent and growls low in his throat, his optics flashing at the difficulty of getting his point across.

Megatronus winces, and he watches Starscream’s jaw clench. His digits tap rapidly against the datasheet in his servo as he looks off to the side and once again tries to think of a way to tell them what he means.

His wings flick agitatedly as he thinks, and his lips purse for a moment before he sets his shoulders and looks at them again. He points at the picture, staring at them until he knows for sure they know who he is singing about. “ _Never an honest word,”_ he starts. “ _But that was when I ruled the world.”_

He pauses for a klick to make sure they are still following, before continuing, the tune changing as he switches to a different song. “ _No matter what we breed, we still are made of greed. This is my kingdom come.”_

Alright, _those_ lines at least seem a little more straight forward. “You’re talking about corruption,” he says bluntly, every flaw of Iacon and the Senate rising up in his mind. Made of greed indeed.

Starscream nods sharply at him, his optics flashing as he points towards the picture again. “ _False god,”_ he says emphatically.

 _Corruption... and false Primus_ , he thinks, trying to make the connection the Singer seems to be reaching for. In front of him, Starscream takes in his blank stare — his look of confusion mirrored equally by Orion next to him — and sighs.

Not one to give up easily, his jaw flexes and he turns to Orion, his wings straight and proud behind him as he looks at the mech. “ _God,”_ he says, holding one servo up in the air, palm out, as though displaying the word as an option.

He then lifts his other servo in a mirror of his first gesture, Sentinel’s picture flapping in his grip as he looks expectantly at Orion. For his part, Orion doesn’t seem quite caught up to what the Singer wants, and he shoots a quick glance to Megatronus.

He can only look back at him and shrug. His guess is as good as any right now.

Starscream huffs and calls Orion’s attention back to him. “ _God,_ ” he repeats, waving his first servo a little as he speaks. A klick later and he waves his second servo, raising his optic ridges at Orion, as though waiting for something.

In front of him, Orion’s brow furls for a moment, before his optics brighten and he looks up suddenly. “Oh!” he says, his shoulders straightening. “Primus. You’re talking about Primus.”

Starscream relaxes slightly at that, and he nods in relief. “ _God,”_ he repeats, before lifting up the picture of Sentinel again. “ _Who made you king of anything?”_ he says slowly, his optics fixed on Orion as he tries to spell out what he means.

He doesn’t have to wait long before Orion is fumbling for his datapad. “King,” he mutters as he shows the translation glyph to the Seeker. “That means Prime, right?”

A thin smile grows on Starscream’s face, and he nods. His wings flick behind him for a klick before he waves Sentinel’s picture again. “ _Who made you king of anything?”_ He then waves his empty servo.

Megatronus watches as Orion’s optics drift slowly over the picture and then to Starscream’s servo, his mouth hanging open as he begins to put the puzzle pieces together. “God,” he says slowly, before blinking and shaking his helm. “Primus. Primus made him Prime.”

In front of him, Starscream smiles bright and sharp, like a turbofox right before it goes in for the kill. He taps on the picture again, the sound of his digit against the datasheet seeming to echo around the room. “ _False. God,”_ he says pointedly, his optics fixed on Orion. “ _Never an honest word. Everything was nothing as it seems. False god.”_

At his words, Orion draws in a stuttering vent, his optics widening as he makes the connection to what Starscream is trying to say. His mouth drops open fully, and his gaze darts over the Seeker in shock.

“Oh,” he says shakily, his voice thin and high as he stares dumbfoundedly at the mech in front of him. “Oh. You— you don’t mean a false Primus, do you? You mean— you mean a false _Prime.”_

Megatronus’ engines stall, and he feels himself choke, his optics widening and his helm jerking as he darts his gaze over to Orion. _What?!_ he thinks, his CPU reeling as he tries to take in what the other mech is saying. His optics jump to Starscream, waiting for his reaction, because _surely_ this can’t be—

But he is left only to watch in stunned silence as Starscream nods back at Orion, his wings dropping with relief as they finally figure out what he is trying to say.

“ _False god,”_ he repeats, sounding tired as he lets go of Sentinel’s picture and watches it drift to the floor. He vents out a sigh, and his voice dips and jumps as he switches between songs. “ _Who made you king of anything? God— No.”_

“Primus didn’t make Sentinel a Prime,” Orion echoes, his optics wide as he stares at Starscream, his mouth slack with shock. “What— _How?_ How is that possible?”

In front of him, Starscream smiles, thin and bitter, his wings sharp and stiff behind him. “ _No matter what we breed, we still are made of greed,”_ he repeats, and Megatronus finds himself venting out an irritated growl.

“This is more corrupt than I was expecting,” he mumbles when the others look at him. Beside him, Orion vents and runs a servo over his face, his optics dilated and overwhelmed as he stares at the picture on the floor.

“This…” he starts slowly. “This… wait.” His optics brighten and his gaze jumps up to stare at Starscream. “This must be part of why he doesn’t listen to you. If he really isn't a Prime, then it would be harder for him to understand what you’re saying, and if _you_ know he isn’t really a Prime, then he wouldn’t want anyone _else_ listening to you either.”

Starscream gives him a tired nod, and Orion lets out a sharp vent, his shoulders slumping slightly as he takes in everything the Singer’s statement means. “No _wonder_ the Singer position has been disregarded,” he mutters, his optics dropping down to his pad for a moment before his brow furls and he glances back up at Starscream, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Wait…” he says slowly, Megatronus watching as his optics dart to his for a moment, before going back to Starscream. “The erasure of the Singer isn’t a _new_ thing,” he says, the datapad in his servo waving as he gestures. “From my research, that has been going on for _several_ generations now.” He pauses and looks at Starscream, his throat flexing as he swallows nervously. “How— how long has it been since we’ve had a real Prime?”

Megatronus’ optics widen at the implications, and he looks over at Starscream, the mech looking resigned and tired as he nods at the question. “ _A long, long time ago,”_ he says quietly, a pained look on his face. “ _The day, the music died.”_

 _Primus,_ he thinks, his CPU spinning at the revelations of the orn. Not only is Sentinel a fake Prime, but he is just the last in a long string of fakes. “How—” he chokes and clears his intake, both Starscream and Orion turning to him as he speaks.

“There is supposed to be a whole ritual for Primus bestowing the Matrix of Leadership on the new Prime,” he says, glancing between them. “Sentinel’s Primehood couldn’t be faked without a _whole_ lot of cover up. Other people have to know.”

Starscream nods at him, and turns to crouch back down by his berth, pulling out the stack of pictures Orion had given him. Without a word he begins to sort through them, removing a picture of a senator or councillor every few sheets and tossing them out onto the floor for them to see.

Megatronus watches mutely as the pile grows, more and more mechs getting implicated in the cover up. The entire Senate is implicated, as well as a few other lower-level councillor mechs, and— and the Air Commander of Vos.

He stares at the picture of the stern golden mech, and he realises that the slow denigration of the Singer would not have been possible without participation from the Air Commander. How else would the Prime have been able to remove the Singer’s trine from the palace? Why else would no Seekers come to the trade talks?

Anger surges in his spark at the thought, but he gets distracted away from it as, next to him, Orion shifts.

“Wow,” he murmurs shellshocked, his optics fixed on the dozen images scattered at their pedes. A klick later and his optics jump up to meet his. “This— what— what do we do now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, many important revelations in this chapter! We learn a large part of why Starscream is being silenced so hard… and why the Singer’s reputation is so poor.
> 
>  **Songs in order of appearance:**  
> [Perfect (clean)](https://youtu.be/-BIye98Ryic), by Pink  
> [Secret](https://youtu.be/f_AyjjBAV8c), by The Pierces  
> [Locked away](https://youtu.be/njGHngSazX8), by R City, ft Adam Levine  
> [Angel in Blue Jeans](https://youtu.be/-gAitqMG_Co), by Train  
> [False God](https://youtu.be/5MIdRvbgElo), by Taylor Swift  
> [Hot ‘N Cold, (clean)](https://youtu.be/KYh-otnSMNE), by Katy Perry  
> [King of Anything](https://youtu.be/RPk4_XfYhjg), by Sara Bareilles  
> [Viva la Vida](https://youtu.be/Tmb7YIKqLeM), by Cold Play  
> [Demons](https://youtu.be/GFQYaoiIFh8), by Imagine Dragons  
> [American Pie](https://youtu.be/uAsV5-Hv-7U), by Don McLean


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Megatronus does some spying and doesn't like what he sees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Abuse

_Good question_ , Megatronus thinks. Now that they know Sentinel Prime is a fraud, and most of the rest of the upper government is implicated in it…what are they supposed to do about it?

“This is— this is big,” Orion whispers at him, his optics wide as he fiddles anxiously with the datapad in his servos. “But who can we even _go_ to about this? Most of the high-level positions already know, so they will just shut us down, and if we say we got our information from the Singer…”

He trails off and glances towards Starscream, not wanting to admit that most people won’t see his testimony as credible.

“We’ll have to find some way to prove it,” Megatronus decides, setting his shoulders determinately as Orion looks back at him. “If we can prove to the wider public that Sentinel is a fake, then he, and the rest of the Senate will be forced to step down.”

Of course, that will bring with it its own host of problems, but they will deal with that once they get there.

“How do we do that?” Orion asks, and he deflates slightly.

That is going to be a little bit harder to do.

oOo

As of yet, they don’t really have any concrete plans. Starscream had seemed to think that they would discover something, but he had been decidedly unhelpful in revealing what that would _be_ , and they had been forced to eventually leave him and go back to their regular lives.

“I only have a few more orns left in Iacon,” he tells Orion, once they are out of audio range of Vortex and Brawl. “I might have to leave before we figure this out, we don’t want to act too hastily with something like this.”

Next to him, Orion nods easily, his optics distant and thoughtful as he walks with him. “We… probably should stay quiet about this, until we have a real plan,” he says, glancing up at him. “But… would it be okay if I told my mentor, Alpha Trion? I think he can be discreet, and he might have some ideas to help us.”

Megatronus hums thoughtfully for a moment, before nodding. “As long as you don’t tell anyone else,” he says. “Making this public might be what we have to do eventually, but if we don’t do this right, I imagine we will have some very unhappy, very powerful people coming after us.”

Orion shudders slightly at that, and he nods quickly. “Yeah,” he says, venting to relieve the tension building up in his frame. “You’re position as a Kaon delegate might protect you a little, but I imagine I won’t be that difficult to just make disappear.”

Megatronus frowns at that, because while Kaon might not be well regarded by Iacon’s elites, Orion isn’t wrong that he is in a more precarious position than him.

“I’ll give you my comm. frequency,” he decides. “We can keep in contact, even after I leave. That way we’ll be able to come up with a plan for what to do.”

Next to him, Orion brightens at the suggestion, and he looks over, his optics flicking over his taller frame. “When are you leaving?”

He vents out a sigh. “The orn after tomorrow,” he says, a tinge of dejection creeping up in his tone. With only two orns left in Iacon, he doubts they will be able to come up with anything concrete before he has to leave.

They will have to think of something though. Even if he is a little skeptical of the Senate and Primehood in general, he knows they cannot leave Sentinel to live out his lie. His treatment of Starscream, and the general deterioration of Cybertron affairs makes it clear that, even if he weren’t a fake, he cannot be left in his position.

oOo

It is unfortunate that he doesn’t have longer with the Singer though, before he has to leave. If he had more time with Starscream, then the mech might have had the time to piece together a helpful song for the situation.

He isn’t completely hopeless though, because he knows, thanks to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, that Starscream sings while alone, and not just when he is asked. So, even if he isn’t able to visit the Singer as often as he would like in his last orns here, he might be able to get something useful if he can somehow see the Singer’s songs _anyways._

Of course, in order to do that, he needs to be able to hear the Singer without being present. Thankfully, he has a plan for that, and after giving Orion his commlink and seeing him off, he makes a beeline back to his quarters, his thoughts abuzz with the events of the orn as he steps inside.

As expected, his fellow delegates are already there. Hook is busy working on something at the table, while Blitzwing and Soundwave sit at the couches, the two mechs absorbed in their datapads, only glancing up briefly as he comes in.

His optics drift over them and alight on Soundwave, or, more accurately, the symbiote attached to his chest. “Soundwave,” he calls, pulling the mech away from his datapad. At a gesture, the mech stands up to follow him into his private quarters, his faceplate continually blank as he watches and waits to see why he has singled him out.

“I need you to watch something for me,” he tells him, once he is sure they won’t be overheard by the others. While he is certain he will have to tell his fellow delegates about Starscream and Sentinel Prime soon, he doesn’t want to do so without a concrete plan in place.

He knows he can count on Soundwave to stay quiet though, and the mech and his symbiote are his best shot at keeping an optic on Starscream.

“I need you to use Laserbeak to survey the Singer,” he tells him. “He has several window seats that should give him a decent view inside.”

If Soundwave is surprised by his request, his only outward sign is a slight tilt of his helm, and Megatronus waits quietly as the mech stares at him, his face completely unreadable under his mask. Finally, he nods once, still completely silent as he accepts the assignment.

Megatronus relaxes and smiles. “Thank you,” he says, rolling his shoulders. “I just need to know if he sings anything important.” 

_Hopefully that will be enough_ , he thinks, as he watches Soundwave turn to leave. If it isn’t enough, well, then, he will just have to think of something.

He has spent _far_ too long working his way up the ranks and fighting his way through the darkest depths of Kaon to let Sentinel and his deception stand.

One way or another, Sentinel will go down.

oOo

It is his second to last orn of trade talks, and he can’t help feeling irritated with the whole thing. He knows it is his job, but he finds he can barely manage to keep a pleasant expression on his face as he nibbles at lunch and chats with various delegates, busy trying to form ties and survey the rest of the room. The politicking had been annoying _before_ all this, and now that he knows that most of the high-level government officials his fellow delegates work for are corrupt and complicit in Sentinel’s cover up, he can’t help feeling it even more so.

 _Will things even change if we get rid of Sentinel?_ he wonders as he ducks away from a highly ignorant and grating conversation on wage increases and the economy. _It is obvious the Primehood has been corrupt for centuries, is it even worth trying to salvage?_

The gladiator part of him, the part that he had had to mostly push aside as he had worked on changing things more slowly through politics, can’t help growling that things would be a lot _easier_ if he tried for a stronger, more radical change.

He gives his helm a shake and makes his way back over to the refreshment tables, trying to calm himself with a fizzy, delicate drink poured in an overly artistic glass. _Focus_ , he reminds himself as he sips and glances around the room. He can plot to remove Sentinel from power later, right now he needs to keep a rational helm on his shoulders so that he doesn’t accidently speak too sharply to some overly sensitive delegate and cause an inter-city incident.

Luckily for him, a distraction from unsympathetic elite mechs arrives in the form of Soundwave, the mech sliding through the crowd and coming to stand next to him, his chassis looking strangely small and empty without his usual symbiote companion. As he arrives, he turns his helm to keep it hidden from any onlookers, and a spectrogram lights up on his face as he speaks.

“ _I just need to know if he sings anything important_ ,” Megatronus hears his own voice played back at him, and he blinks as he realises Laserbeak must be in place, and he must have notified Soundwave of something significant.

His optics jump up to scan the crowd around them and he gestures subtly for Soundwave to follow. He leaves his drink as they slip out of the hall and head to a more secluded corner of the palace, where they are less likely to be overheard.

“What did you find?” he whispers as he turns to the mech, the two of them standing in the shadow of a large column. The vast ceiling of the empty hall around them practically swallows the sound of his voice.

Soundwave doesn’t reply, but his faceplate lights up in a live feed from Laserbeak, and Megatronus flicks his optics over the recording. Like he had suggested, Laserbeak has situated himself outside of one of Starscream’s window seats, allowing him to see into the Singer’s room. Most of the window is completely sealed, but a small section swings outward, and either Starscream had left it unattended, or Laserbeak had managed to pry it open, allowing him to hear everything going on inside.

He can’t help the slight flare of surprise he feels at what he sees.

Laserbeak’s vantage point gives him a good view of the tower, and in the middle of the room, he can see Starscream, the mech mid-spin as he glides about the floor, dipping around a chair with enviable ease.

All his previous sessions with the Singer had had him either standing stiffly, or pacing agitatedly, and he watches with wide optics as the mech _dances_ around the room, his optics half-closed as he hums a low song in his throat. He twists, and the thin, fluttery mesh of his robe flares out behind him as he spins, his wings sweeping down gracefully as he dips suddenly, his shoulders rolling as his arms arch with the movement.

A moment later and he hums a series of high, faster notes, his legs shifting as he ducks around a chaise and dances through a quick set of steps, his arms coming up to hang in the air by his shoulders, his servos poised as though holding something. There is a klick where Megatronus can only stare in confusion at the position, before Starscream hums again, his servos moving along with the notes, as though playing music.

 _It’s an instrument,_ he realises, his optics widening as the Seeker continues to glide around the room. _He is miming an instrument_. He doesn’t know enough about music to be able to guess which instrument the Seeker is mimicking, but it is clear to him that the mech feels the lack of his instruments keenly.

He also seems adept at expressing his music through dance, which, he had never given any indication of before. But, given the superficial, frivolous position he has been forced into as the Singer, Megatronus finds he is not that surprised the mech avoids performing any more than necessary.

His thoughts over Starscream and his role as the Singer get cut off as the mech switches to a new song and begins to sing. His voice floats up to Laserbeak as he continues to dance, his movements becoming sharper and more abrupt as he keeps on beat with the words.

 _“First things first, I'ma say all the words inside my head. I'm_ fired _up and_ tired _of the way that things have been, oh-ooh.”_ His optics flash, and it isn’t hard for Megatronus to guess what he is singing about. _“The way that things have been, oh-ooh.”_

A thin smile creeps onto his face as he sings, and his wings flare out in defiance as he sweeps his arm up on the long note, before tapping out a drum beat in the air, a sharp, pointed expression on his face.

 _“Second thing second, don't you tell me what you think that I could be, I'm the one at the sail, I'm the master of my sea, oh-ooh.”_ His arms sweep in a mirror of the gesture from before, and Megatronus finds himself almost mesmerized as he watches the mech sing out his anger. “ _The master of my sea, oh-ooh.”_

The tempo seems to increase, and with it, Starscream’s dance, his robe flying as he spins on his pede and leaps across the room, twisting gracefully through his collection of chairs. “ _I was broken from a young age_ , _taking my sulking to the masses–”_ His voice rises with emotion and his arms draw into himself as he rocks to the beat. “– _writing my poems for the few_ _that look at me, took to me, shook to me, feeling me_ _singing from heartache from the pain–”_

His optics flash and his arms fly out, his wings drawing back as his chest expands and he sings about singing. “ _Taking my message from the veins_ , _speaking my lesson from the brain_ , _seeing the beauty through the—”_

He sucks in a vent, the whole song on a knife’s edge as his wings flare out to their fullest extent, his servo reaching up to the sky and his robe settling around him as he rises up onto his toes. His optics flash as the beat drops and he opens his mouth to keep singing.

He never gets the chance.

Just as he is about to continue, just as he is about to finish the sentence— the whole thing breaks off as Sentinel Prime marches into the room, his pedes heavy and jarring as he stalks in, a scowl on his face.

The change is immediate. Starscream’s arm drops instantly, his face closing off into a tense expression as he spins to face the Prime, his wings stiff and rigid behind him, all semblance to the leaping, dancing mech from before wiped away.

Megatronus can’t help swallowing at the change of atmosphere, his optics wide and fixed on the display in front of him, unable to keep from noticing the dry look of distain on the Prime’s face as he looks Starscream up and down, his heavy ornate robe dragging behind him as he scans the mech.

“ _Enjoying yourself?”_ he drawls.

Starscream says nothing. His expression remains tight and closed-off as he watches the Prime warily, his robe fluttering nervously as he subtly shifts back to put more space between them.

In front of him, Sentinel scoffs and folds his arms, rolling his optics as he shakes his helm. _“Typical,”_ he mutters, before flicking his gaze up and catching Starscream in a stare. _“Although… I have been hearing that you are more than willing to sing for someone_ else _recently.”_

Megatronus’ spark drops, and his optics widen as he realises with apprehension where this conversation is going. Starscream picks up on it too, a quiver running through his wings as he vents shallowly and stares at Sentinel, his optics wary.

Sentinel flashes him a sharp, nasty grin as he steps forward, and Starscream takes a step back in response, his optics darting around as he takes in the few chaises and chairs that separate him from the angry Prime.

“ _It seems you’ve made a friend,”_ Sentinel leers at him as he comes closer, side-stepping a chaise without taking his optics off the retreating Seeker. _“Did you think I wouldn’t hear about the Kaon delegate? How many times has he visited you now? More times than most, yes? I heard he even brought an archivist last time.”_

Megatronus winces as he realises his interest with the Singer had probably raised a few optic ridges and drawn unwanted attention. He hadn't been intending to put Starscream in danger, but obviously Sentinel is unimpressed by their relationship.

“ _Seems to be a bit more than casual interest,”_ Sentinel continues, growling as he stalks forward and Starscream darts over to put another chair between the two of them. “ _What sort of things have you been telling him, hmm?”_

He pauses in his advance, only a few chairs separating him and the Seeker, allowing Megatronus to appreciate for the first time the sheer height difference between the two. He hadn't really noticed it before now, since the Prime had always been seated on the dais, while Starscream had sung below him, but now, Sentinel absolutely _towers_ over the mech, Starscream’s thin Seeker frame not doing him any favours in the face of the Prime’s bulk.

 _“Well?”_ he barks out, drawing a flinch from Starscream as the mech’s wings twitch and he darts his optics over the Prime. His vents are shallow and fast, but a look of bitter anger grows on his face.

 _“I,”_ he snarls, his wings flaring out behind him as he glares at Sentinel and bites out the next few words in a sharp bitter tone. _“Don't like your little games,_ _don't like your tilted stage, the role you made me play.”_ His optics flash and his servo comes up to slap against his chest. _“Of the fool_ _. No, I don't like you.”_

Sentinel growls at that and he darts forward, but Starscream dashes back, forcing the mech to pause as he continues to sing rapid lyrics. “ _But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time,”_ his mouth twists into a smile and he practically purrs the next line. “ _Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time. I got a list of names, and yours is in red underlined.”_ He sucks in a vent and tilts his helm, staring at Sentinel. “ _I check it once, then I check it twice, oh!”_

His voice drops and his optics darken. “ _Ooh, look what you made me do_.”

Megatronus shivers at the implications, and they prove too much for Sentinel. The mech’s growl rises into a snarl and his optics flash dangerously as his face twists and he surges forward, his servo outstretched.

Megatronus jerks forward as well, as if he can somehow intercept the furious Prime through the screen, but all he can do is watch with wide optics as Starscream ducks away, the mech tense and silent as he sweeps around a chair and ignites his thrusters, his helm craning up towards the window seat as he tries to blast off.

 _He will be safe if he gets that high,_ he realises with a start, his spark in his throat. If Starscream can manage to get away from the ground-bound Prime, then he will be safe.

He doesn’t make it though. Just as he manages to lift off, Sentinel rounds the last chair and lunges for him, his digits like claws as he grabs the trailing edge of his robe and _yanks._ Starscream’s optics widen and he lets out a gasp of pain and fear as he gets jerked back and abruptly grounded.

Megatronus’ vents catch, and his fists clench as the mech lands with a crash. A pained cry sounds through the room as his wings twist under him and he skids across the floor, coming to a shaky stop at the base of another chair. His vents echo sharp and heavy in the silence as he scrambles to sit up, the only other sound that of Sentinel’s pedes and his robe sweeping behind him as he stomps over, a burning rage in his optics.

 _“Do you think you’re_ funny?” he snaps as he advances on the cringing Seeker, the mech trapped against the chair as Sentinel leans in, his bulk nearly eclipsing Laserbeak’s view from the window. “ _Do you think this is a game? Did you honestly think you could get away with this?”_

Below him, Starscream pants out a few sharp vents and grits his denta, his optics narrowed in a fierce glare as he stares up at the Prime. _“Fall upon your knees,”_ he spits out, his wings vibrating in his anger as his voice rises. _“Sing: ‘_ This is my body and soul here _’.”_ His servo lifts up to rest on his chest, and he draws in a vent. _“Crawl and beg and plead.”_ His voice rises once again as he continues to sing accusatorily. _“Sing: ‘_ You've got the power and control _’. Don't pin it_ all on me _.”_

It isn’t hard for Megatronus to see Starscream’s connection between Sentinel’s oppression of his songs and purpose as a Singer, and his collusion with outside forces. _Look what you made me do,_ he had said, implying that Sentinel is more to blame than him.

Fake Prime or not, Sentinel seems to pick up on the implications as well, and he doesn’t appreciate them, his optics darkening with fury as he rears back and slaps Starscream across the face. Megatronus chokes at the force of the blow, and Starscream’s helm whips to the side. A thin whimper breaks past his lips as he knocks back against the chair, a shaky servo raising to his cheekplate as he gasps out a vent.

“ _Watch your mouth,”_ Sentinel hisses darkly, leaning closer as he glowers at the Singer. _“If you really think that_ Kaonite _will change anything, then I suggest you remember who I have in my custody.”_

Starscream freezes at that, and Megatronus is left to watch in confusion as his optics dart up in horror, his vents stalled as he stares at Sentinel, the anger from before wiped away by his threat.

What it means, or who Sentinel had been talking about, Megatronus can only guess, but he can’t help the pit of apprehension that opens up in his chest as he watches Sentinel’s satisfied expression at Starscream’s reaction.

 _“That’s what I thought,”_ he says condescendingly, taking a step back and setting his shoulders, an almost lazy expression of superiority on his face as he stares down at the Seeker. _“Stop singing for the Kaonite. In fact, I better not hear you sing_ anything _suggestive for the rest of the trade talks.”_

Megatronus’ mouth presses together unhappily at that, and he watches as Starscream drops his helm, his wings low on his back as he stares silently at the floor, his servo curled into a small, shaking fist by his side. In front of him, Sentinel’s optics narrow, and his engines give a low growl of warning.

“ _Understood?”_ he snaps, the sharp word causing Starscream to twitch, his vents stuttering as he shivers and looks back up at Sentinel.

There is a quiet, resigned tiredness in his gaze as he closes his optics and swallows. “ _I got new rules, I count ‘em,”_ he says quietly, opening his optics as they drop to the floor, missing Sentinel’s thin smile of triumph at his words.

“ _Good,”_ he bites out, and Megatronus watches as he gives Starscream one last disdainful look, before spinning on his heel, his robe brushing along the floor as he marches out of the room. “ _Call Ratchet,”_ he hears him tell the guards before he gets out of audio range. _“I want him ready for tonight.”_

Back on the floor, Starscream runs a tired servo over his face, wincing slightly as he brushes across his cheekplate, before he lets out a tired vent and slumps against his chair, his optics dull and empty. Megatronus can’t blame him, considering what had just happened, but for a moment he hopes that the Seeker might feel the urge to sing something that will give him more of a clue as to who Sentinel has in his custody, or where they might be.

He doesn’t get the chance to see if he will though, because a noise from down the hall reminds him that he is still only partially hidden, and that he and Soundwave will be expected back at the delegate lunch eventually.

As much as continuing to watch Starscream would probably be enlightening, he can’t risk getting caught, not when Sentinel is already aware of his song sessions with the Singer.

He gives his helm a shake, and takes a step back, nodding at Soundwave, the mech’s faceplate going black again as he cuts his feed with Laserbeak. “Thank you, Soundwave,” he says quietly. “Keep Laserbeak there for now.”

Soundwave nods quietly at him, and he is left to turn back to his lunch and try to figure out what to do with what he had just seen.

oOo

The rest of his trade talk meetings go smoothly, but he finds he can’t keep his thoughts off of Starscream and his violent encounter with Sentinel. The thought of it makes his engine run hot with anger, and he has to fight off the urge to simply give Sentinel a taste of his own medicine, or out him prematurely as a fraud.

As much as he would like punching Sentinel in the face, or tearing him down a few notches, he has to remind himself that he is not the only person at stake here. If he goes after Sentinel right now, he will not only be putting Orion and Starscream in danger, but also the person whom Sentinel seems to hold over the Singer.

That doesn’t mean he feels any better about his current inaction when he sees Starscream next, the mech impeccable as ever as he stands on display at the last trade dinner. Any traces of Sentinel’s abuse are wiped away as he sways in a new robe, his optics never meeting his as he sings.

The effects of Sentinel’s censorship become increasingly obvious as the night progresses. Starscream’s songs never stray once into anything that has the possibility of being interpreted as anything other than beautiful background noise.

He shouldn’t really be surprise, given what he had seen, but he finds a sour pit opening up in his tanks as he listens to the empty words. It becomes impossible to enjoy any of the foreign fancy food, no matter that he won’t be having anything similar once he returns back to Kaon.

oOo

The next orn, his fellow delegates are in the midst of packing their few belongings as they prepare for their transport back to Kaon, but he can’t keep his mind off of Starscream. Laserbeak had returned to Soundwave during the night cycle, so he has no way of knowing what he is doing or going through right now. It feels wrong to leave without seeing him again, and after what he had seen between him and Sentinel, he can’t help feeling as though he needs to check up on him, if only to have his last image of him something other than his small form on the ground.

So he decides to pay him one last visit.

It probably isn’t the smartest plan, and he hopes it won’t put Starscream in danger, but he thinks that his visit probably won’t seem out of the ordinary either, since Sentinel already knows he goes regularly, and the Prime doesn’t know he had seen the last orn’s incident.

Brawl and Vortex are on guard duty when he gets there, and he holds their gaze stubbornly as he steps through to Starscream’s room. Golden sunlight shines down from the skylights and his optics sweep over the spread of chaises and chairs, the collection suddenly seeming much more strategic than before.

Starscream is in the room as usual — although he is beginning to think that the guards outside are not necessarily to keep things _out,_ but more to keep a certain Seeker _in_ — and he stands above him on the landing of the staircases, the position eerily similar to the first time he had come to see him. Megatronus’ optic catch on the draping sleeves of the midnight blue robe around his shoulders, and he swallows.

“Starscream,” he says quietly, the Singer’s silent, solemn gaze meeting his as he looks up at him. “I have come to request a song.”

At his words, Starscream’s gaze flickers downward, before darting up past him to look at the doorway— and no doubt check on the guards listening in on their every word. His gaze meets his again, a worn exhausted look in his optics as he moves slowly to come down the sweeping staircase on his right.

“ _Incy wincy spi-der,”_ he sings softly, his optics never leaving his as he comes to stand at the bottom of the stairs, the robe trailing behind him. “ _Climbed up the waterspout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out.”_

 _Yes,_ he thinks, as he nods silently at Starscream. _That would be the song he would sing._

“Thank you, Singer,” he says quietly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we get to see a bit more of Sentinel’s interactions with Starscream. Obviously, he is not impressed by Starscream’s actions, and he threatens him into silence. And now Megatronus has to leave Iacon…
> 
> Also, I made a playlist for this AU! I have it linked at the beginning and end of this story.
> 
> **Songs in order of appearance:**  
> [Song of the Caged Bird](https://youtu.be/inb8MMZ-QmA), by Lindsey Stirling (this is the instrumental song I imagine Starscream was playing before he starts singing)  
> [Believer](https://youtu.be/W0DM5lcj6mw), by Imagine Dragons  
> [Look What You Made Me Do](https://youtu.be/_k7hmkf2dvQ), by Taylor Swift  
> [Blame](https://youtu.be/NM53vEiNMeI), by Bastille  
> [New Rules](https://youtu.be/ClhLNUPqv8Q), by Dua Lipa  
> [Child’s Play](https://www.musixmatch.com/lyrics/Brigham-Young-University-Vocal-Point/Child-s-Play), by BYU Vocal Point (lyrics)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Megatronus gets sent to Vos.

He leaves Iacon in nearly the same poor spirits he had arrived in, except this time he has plenty more to be upset about. He had known that corruption ate away at the upper ranks of Cybertron, but he had never had such _concrete_ evidence of it.

He is beginning to regret his decision to go into politics, rather than trying to change things through other means. Back when he had first been gathering a following and had worked his way out of the gladiator pits, he had allowed himself to be convinced that working through conventional means would get his voice heard better than more violent methods…

But now he isn’t so sure.

It had been _vorns_ since he had first begun to work towards his goal of social change, and he doesn’t have much to show for it. Oh sure, a few surface changes had been put in place in Kaon and a few other city-states, but the very top of the whole system is rusted.

He isn’t really sure simply outing Sentinel and replacing him with someone else will truly be a solution.

Setting aside the question of _how_ they will find an actual Prime chosen by Primus, who is to say the mech would actually change things for the better? The caste system had been put in place from the birth of Cybertron, and _those_ Primes had most definitely been Primus-chosen.

 _Maybe… this_ is _an opportunity for bigger change_ , he thinks, as he and his delegates speed out of Iacon, their transport vehicle heading back home. _Maybe outing Sentinel will force a bigger overhaul of the system. Maybe we don’t_ have _to have a Prime anymore_.

The thought fills him with a sudden spark of hope. It seems so simple to him. Without a Prime, or the corruption of the Senate, Cybertron could really have a chance at addressing the shocking disparity between the castes.

Starscream had worked so hard to tell him that Sentinel is a fake, surely, this must be part of why, right?

oOo

He doesn’t have a lot of time to work on his plan to reveal Sentinel’s fraud, let alone anything to do with removing the Prime entirely, because his duties in Kaon keep him busy. He messages Orion upon arriving, but he doesn’t have much time to do anything else before he is swept up in a flurry of meetings and reports on his conferences and deals in Iacon.

The trade talks had gone relatively well – outside of Starscream’s shocking revelation of course – so he can at least report back confidently to his superiors, but he soon finds them sending him on another city-state visit.

“We have updated our trade agreements with everyone but Vos,” he is told. “Because Vos refused to attend the meetings, we will need to renew our agreements individually.”

The task is frustratingly tedious— especially since he suspects the reason Vos had ‘refused’ to attend the meetings has more to do with the Air Commander Sunburst’s endorsement of Sentinel Prime’s silencing of the Singer, rather than the isolationist culture of the city.

He wonders what kinds of incentives Iacon offers Vos in order to ensure its cooperation.

Tedious or not, he cannot simply refuse to go, and he is forced to send another message to Orion, explaining the situation and the fact that he will be less helpful in plotting a way to take down Sentinel for the next few orns.

 _That’s okay,_ Orion sends back. _I will actually be busy too. I can’t get into the palace without you to meet Starscream, but I told Alpha Trion about what we knew, and he suggested I visit Cybertron's core. Apparently that is where Primes would go originally to get the Matrix of Leadership. He is taking me in a few orns. Who knows? Maybe the Matrix will still be there, and we can prove Sentinel is a fraud._

To be honest, the plan seems a little desperate to him. He hadn't even been aware that anyone could even _travel_ to the core of Cybertron anymore, but, he supposes that if there _is_ a way, an archivist like Alpha Trion would probably know about it. He doesn’t hold out much hope for the plan, but it is better than anything _he_ can do right now.

Once he is finished with Vos, and once Orion is back from the core, then they will be able to plan and figure something out. It occurs to him that he has the recording of Sentinel’s altercation with Starscream. He isn’t sure if that will be enough to change everything, but if they do decide to go public, the recording might be enough to at least prove there is a kernel of truth to their words.

He will talk to Orion about that afterwards though. Right now, he is shipping off to Vos, to go negotiate with a corrupt Air Commander.

Lucky him.

oOo

He will admit that, like Iacon, Vos is stunningly beautiful.

The city is built for fliers, so he arrives in a jet transport this time, the spiralling crystal towers of the city-state on full display as he approaches. Even from a distance he can see Seekers flying between towers in sky-highways, the mechs as small as cyberbirds as they slice through the air.

For the most part, the flying is tame and controlled, mechs simply going about their orn as they fly from place to place, but as he approaches the main palace spire – the white crystal tower situated in the center of the city – a patrol trine of three Seekers takes position next to his transport. Their flight is light and graceful as they cut through the sky and circle around him.

He can’t help staring in awe, his optics glancing over their forms as they escort him. All three sport matching silver wingstripes, the paint flashing in the sun as he watches. His transport begins its descent into the docking port, and the trine peels away, tilting perpendicular to the sky as they shoot off and leave him to shake off his haze and get ready to disembark.

He is greeted respectfully upon arrival, a light green femme Seeker with yellow wingstripes waiting for him as he steps out. Her wings flick down in a bow before she turns to lead him out of the transport bay and down a grand, airy hallway.

“I will show you to your quarters first,” she tells him, with a respectful tilt of her helm. “You can have a chance to get settled in. Air Commander Sunburst will send for you in a groon or so.”

He nods at that, and the femme soon leaves him in a grand set of guest quarters, one whole side of the room a bank of windows, affording him an unobstructed view of the air traffic outside. He goes over to look out, the city bright under the sun as he watches Seekers fly about their business.

He can’t help thinking their carefree flying doesn’t bear much resemblance to the quiet circles Starscream had been confined to in the palace gardens of Iacon.

He doesn’t have much to do in his quarters, but he settles down to write some of his reports as he waits to be summoned, and soon, a different guide comes to his door, this one sporting a pair of white wingstripes.

He can’t help glancing over the wingstripes as the mech leads him down the hall to the audience chamber. The adornments seem to be a common feature in Vos, but, his mind flashes back to the thin, silver panelling of Starscream’s wings, and he doesn’t think the Seeker had had any.

 _I wonder if only the most elite wear robes,_ he muses as he follows the mech to a high ornate door. So far, he hasn’t seen the status symbol on any of the Seekers around him, but then again, most of those had been service mechs.

In front of him, his guide dips his helm and wings respectfully, before pulling open the heavy door, the resulting thud echoing around him as he steps into a high roofed room. He looks around as beams of sunlight filter through distant skylights down onto gauzy curtains that hang in the hall at regular intervals, and frame a large silver meeting table.

A golden Seeker sits at the head of the table, his wings held proudly behind him. His bronze wingstripes contrasts nicely with his impeccable paintjob, and his yellow optics follow him as he begins to make his way down the table. His pedes echo in the large hall as he flicks his optics over the Air Commander and the silent blue Seeker standing on his left.

Neither of them are wearing robes, he notices.

“Megatronus of Kaon,” the Air Commander greets him without rising, his optics flicking over his frame as he approaches.

“Air Commander Sunburst,” he responds with a respectful bow, internally gritting his denta as he defers to the other mech. While he may have to do it in order to maintain a good working relationship with the city-state, that doesn’t mean he has to enjoy it.

He keeps a pleasant expression on his face as he rises though, his optics flicking up to the blue mech behind Sunburst as the Air Commander introduces his aid. “Thundercracker will keep track of the details,” he says with a lazy wave towards the mech.

Megatronus glances up at him and Thundercracker meets his gaze silently, his face completely somber as he dips his helm in a nod of respect. His wings are stiff and tense as he stands at attention behind Sunburst, his servos clasped behind his back.

He nods back at the aid, before slipping seamlessly into his role as a Kaon delegate, sitting down in a chair to the left of Sunburst as he begins to chat his way through the overly complicated avenues of politics and trade.

Thankfully, Kaon and Vos are generally on good terms with each other, and it isn’t difficult to negotiate a renewal of their trade deals, as well as bring up the possibility of implementing a few more. It is too much to go over in just one orn though, and after a few groons of debating and examining datapads fetched back and forth by Thundercracker, their talks begin to wind down into more casual, friendly discussion. The two of them setting aside more trade talks until the following orn.

“I heard you had the honour of being sent to the trade talks in Iacon recently,” Sunburst comments as he swirls a drink that Thundercracker had been sent for about halfway through their discussions. The blue energon glints in the light as he sips from it, contrasting sharply with the bright yellow of his optics as he looks at him.

“Yes,” he replies, his own glass still mostly full as he holds it, aiming for an easy posture as he looks back at the Air Commander. The topic of his Iaconian talks reminds him of Starscream, and he can’t help flicking his optics over the Seeker in front of him, a bitter feeling in his tank at the knowledge that the mech is at least partially responsible for the Singer’s condition.

“Was it your first time at the capital?” Sunburst asks him, pulling him away from his dark thoughts.

“Yes,” he says again, watching the Air Commander carefully as he sips delicately at his energon. “It was my first time seeing the Singer too, actually,” he says, knowing that Sunburst cannot find his words suspect, since he doubts the mech could ever imagine what he had managed to learn from Starscream.

Sunburst smiles lightly at his words, but Megatronus can’t help noticing how the mech behind him twitches, Thundercracker’s hard-optic stare suddenly fixed on him when he glances up.

“It has been many vorns since I have last heard his song,” Sunburst tells him, calling his attention back to the head of the table. “Is it still as beautiful as reported?”

Megatronus pastes a smile on his face and nods at the mech, pushing away memories of Sentinel’s abuse and Starscream’s breakdown to the back of his processor. “Indeed, it was,” he says, his servo tightening slightly on his glass as he works on keeping calm and pleasant with the Air Commander.

He tilts his helm a little, flicking his optics over Sunburst as he sips his drink again. “It surprises me that you have not heard him in so long,” he admits, keeping every note of accusation out of his tone as he looks at the Air Commander. “Is Seeker travel to Iacon so rare? Surely the Singer must remain in contact with his home city-state.”

Sunburst waves a servo, brushing away his concern as though it were nothing. “The Singer is an interesting phenomenon,” he says, his optics half-lidded as he sips his energon. “Once he comes of age and takes his place by the Prime’s side, his duties to the Prime override those to his city-state.”

Megatronus nods at that, reading in between the lines as he takes in what he already knows. Vos is perfectly happy to leave the Singer to the mercy of the Prime, as long as whatever system of incentives they have in place between the two cities – and between the two leaders no doubt – remains intact.

“Surely his trine must remain in contact with him though,” he says, keeping his tone light and empty as he sips his energon. Behind Sunburst, Thundercracker twitches again, his optics practically burning into him as he stares, his frame completely stiff and rigid as he stands silently behind the Air Commander.

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about that,” Sunburst deflects deftly, his wings swaying slightly as he watches him over the rim of his glass. “I don’t believe anyone knows the Singer’s previous trine anymore. Once the Singer takes on his role by the Prime, he loses much of his previous identity.”

Megatronus nods, as though that is perfectly reasonable, and he dips his helm at Sunburst, tilting his glass towards him in respect. “Of course,” he says.

Their conversation drifts to a close not long after that, the light in the hall growing dimmer as the orn lengthens. “Dinner will be brought to you in your quarters,” Sunburst tells him as they both stand up from the table, his wings sweeping up proudly behind him. “We can continue our negotiations tomorrow. For now, Thundercracker can show you back to your rooms.”

Thundercracker nods deeply at that, his face mostly blank and neutral as he gives the Air Commander a bow, before turning away to lead him back out of the hall. Megatronus can’t help flicking his optics over the silent mech as he is led through the ornate doors, the Seeker’s wings stiff and high on his back as he stalks down the hall, his steps a little too heavy to be natural.

He will admit to being curious about the mech. He had reacted strangely when he had mentioned Starscream, and he has to wonder why. Is it possible that Sunburst’s claims about Vos’ disinterest with the Singer are not entirely true? How widespread is the knowledge of Starscream’s mistreatment and defamation?

He imagines it probably isn’t common knowledge, but if Thundercracker knows about it, then he would be curious to know how, and why.

If he wants to find out though, he is going to have to find away to break past the mech’s scowling exterior. He casts his optics around in an effort to find something to talk about, and he finds his gaze coming to rest on the set of red wingstripes that adorn the Seeker’s wings.

It is a good a topic as any.

“Thundercracker,” he calls, causing the mech to slow slightly as he looks back at him. “I can’t help noticing,” he continues, speeding up so that he can walk next to the mech. “Unlike my visit to Iacon, mechs here do not seem to wear robes. Instead, they have wingstripes, like yours.”

Next to him, Thundercracker scoffs, shaking his helm as he continues to walk, albeit slower this time. “Seeker's don’t wear robes,” he says, a disdainful tone to his voice. “Iacon might enjoy its status symbols, but robes are tedious and get in the way of flying.” His wings flick, the red of his wingstripes flashing in the light. “The quality of your wingstripes is enough to denote your status. We don’t need any extra finery.”

Megatronus flicks his optics over the stripe of red, his CPU flashing back to Starscream’s never-ending collection of impractical robes, and his complete lack of wingstripes at all.

 _Hmm,_ he thinks unhappily, a short silence falling between him and Thundercracker as they continue to walk down the hall, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

Up ahead, the doors to his quarters come into view, and he is just about ready to give up on talking to Thundercracker anymore, when the mech vents in sharply and sets his shoulders, a determined sheen to his optics as he looks over at him. “Are you really interested in the Singer’s trine?” he asks, an almost challenging tone to his voice.

Megatronus blinks in surprise and he slows to a stop outside his rooms, Thundercracker continuing to stare at him as he thinks over the question. “I am,” he says finally. “From what I understand, it would be easier to understand the Singer, if there were Seekers present to interpret for him.”

Surprise flashes through Thundercracker’s optics at his words, and his wings lower slightly, no longer as high and tense on his back as he looks at him. Megatronus glances over him, his curiosity growing stronger at the mech’s reaction.

“When I tried to research his trine,” he continues slowly, keeping his optics on the mech. “I couldn’t find any record of them. Do you know who they are?”

Thundercracker huffs out a sharp vent and glances away. His wings are tense on his back again and his servos tight fists by his side as he glares at the floor, his throat flexing as he swallows. His wings give an agitated flick, before he glances back up at him, his lips pressed into a thin line. “As the Air Commander said,” he says tightly. “No one knows who his trine is.”

Megatronus nods slowly at that, not quite believing the mech, but ready to believe he has his reasons to lie. “He has a trine though?” he presses, and Thundercracker glances away again, his wings quivering on his back.

“Of course he does,” he bites out, anger sharpening in his voice as he glances back up at him, his optics hard. “The Singer isn’t _sparked_ singing, you know. After the old Singer dies, there are vorns of speculation as to which sparkling will be the reincarnation. It isn't until the sparkling gets older and begins to lose their speech to song that anyone knows for sure who it is.” His wings twitch. “By then they should have already formed a trine.”

“And then they get sent to Iacon?” he says quietly, and Thundercracker huffs, dropping his gaze back down to glare at the floor.

“Once the Singer is found, they get taken into the palace to be educated,” he says. “They get sent to Iacon once they come of age.”

He nods slowly at that. He hadn't really known about the logistics of the Singer succession until now, but it seems to him that the Seeker is sparked into a regular family, until their talent is discovered. If that is the case, then it raises a few questions as to how, and why, no one knows the identity of Starscream’s family anymore.

He is pretty sure he can guess the answers to those questions though.

“When the Singer is sent to Iacon,” he says, keeping his optics on Thundercracker as he speaks. “What happens to his trine? Are they left without their third?”

Thundercracker’s face twists and his wings twitch, his optics never leaving the ground as he grits his denta. “I don’t know,” he gets out finally, a glare on his face as he raises his optics. “The palace keeps pretty quiet over the _sacred_ Singer.”

His expression tells him how he feels about _that_ particular policy, and Megatronus nods at him, storing away what he had learned to think about later. It is obvious that the corruption surrounding the Singer goes beyond just Sentinel’s inner circle.

“Thank you, Thundercracker,” he says, giving the mech a nod, before he turns to finally head into his rooms.

“Wait.”

He pauses at the sound of Thundercracker’s voice behind him, and when he looks back the mech has a tight look on his face, his wings flared on his back and his servos twitching at his side. “Sta— The Singer. When you saw him. Was he— how was he?”

Megatronus blinks at his question and his CPU flashes back to the multitude of red flags he had seen, just in his few orns in Iacon. How was Starscream? _Not good_ , he thinks, his optics flicking over Thundercracker’s face, his expression suddenly giving him the impression that the mech already suspects the truth.

But they are standing in an open hallway in the palace of Vos, and he knows without being told that he can’t reveal what he had seen between Sentinel and Starscream, not here. Not yet.

“Spirited,” he tells him instead, his thoughts darting back to Starscream’s defiant singing, even in the face of Sentinel’s displeasure. “He makes himself hard to ignore.”

Surprise flashes through Thundercracker’s optics, and for a nanoklick his mouth twitches upwards for the first time since Megatronus has met him. “Ah,” he says, blinking, his wings flicking behind him. “Good. I mean— thank you.”

He nods once more at the mech, before finally heading back into his rooms, his CPU buzzing thoughtfully as he wonders at his interest with Starscream.

oOo

The rest of his trade talks with the Air Commander go well. He gets a message from Orion on the second orn about his departure for the core of Cybertron, but he doesn’t have much time to do more than send back a brief reply and a wish for luck. While trade negotiations with Vos are not necessarily _difficult,_ they are still a lot of work, and his next few orns in Vos don’t give him a lot of time to worry about Orion or Sentinel back in Iacon.

He doesn’t interact much with Thundercracker after their initial conversation, the mech seeming determined to act uninterested in him whenever they are around the Air Commander, or other Seekers. He probably shouldn’t be surprised at that, but he can’t help keeping an optic on the mech as he works in the background of the negotiations, the Seeker more or less constantly at Sunburst’s elbow, ready to respond to his beck and call.

He has to admit that it is rather impressive how well he hides the pit of anger that he had displayed in the hall while he is working. He may not seem exactly _approachable_ while he is around the Air Commander, but no one looking at him would suspect the bitterness he holds about the Singer.

As far as Megatronus can tell, Thundercracker is the only Seeker among those in the palace that seem to hold some resentment over Vos’ treatment of Starscream. He brings up the topic of the Singer with a few of the servants after he hears them humming between themselves – never before had he quite understood the musical nature of Seekers in general, music is practically _everywhere_ here – and all he gets are pleased smiles and stories of past Singers.

Thundercracker’s anger seems unique, and is therefore intriguing, and he intends to look into it more, once he has time, and maybe after he an Orion figure out what to do about Sentinel.

First though, he needs to wrap up his trade talks with Vos, and he can’t help feeling a sense of relief as he clasps servos with and gives a final bow to Sunburst, the negotiations drawing to a close a few orns after he had received Orion’s last message.

With the negotiations over, he can head back to Kaon, and contact Orion again and see what he had discovered during his trip to the core of Cybertron. Hopefully he has found something useful, if not, then they will have to think of something else to do in order to expose Sentinel and the Senate for their fraud. He has Soundwave’s video, so he at least feels like he has _something_ of a plan, even if it will need to be worked on.

 _Perhaps we will be able to remove the Senate entirely after this_ , he thinks as he follows a servant back to his quarters. He doesn’t have much to pack once he arrives, but he gathers his few belongings in preparation for his departure and pulls out his datapad in order to check for messages from Orion and inform his superiors of the successful closure of his Vos negotiations.

He onlines the pad, and he finds two messages, one from Orion, and one from his superiors. His optic ridges rise at that, and he clicks on the one from Kaon first, hoping that it isn’t something urgent to delay his work with Orion even more.

The message opens to display several news media links, and a single urgent line of dialogue.

 _Return to Iacon immediately,_ it says, and his brow furls as he reads the order, confusion rising up in his spark at being ordered back to Iacon so soon after completing his last trade talks.

Hoping for some clarification, he clicks on the first news link, wondering what could have possibly happened this morning while he had been in negotiations that would have changed the situation in Iacon so quickly.

 **MATRIX OF LEADERSHIP BESTOWED ON ANOTHER** , the header of the article reads. **SENTINEL PRIME A FRAUD?**

His optics widen and his mouth drops open as he stares frozen at the pad.

What… the slag. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I thought it was very important that Megatronus see Vos as well, and meet some… important people.
> 
> Meanwhile, Orion is up to his own thing…
> 
> No songs for this chapter! 
> 
> Two more chapters left!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Megatronus returns to Iacon... and has Opinions.

He clicks on the next link, his CPU spinning as he tries to take in what he is reading.

**SCANDAL IN IACON,** it announces. **PRIME CHALLENGER CLAIMS THE MATRIX OF LEADERSHIP**

Under the header is a photo of a heavy built red and blue mech standing on the front steps of the Prime’s palace. A bright light admits from his chassis, his frame opening to reveal what appears to be the Matrix of Leadership. He squints at the image, bringing the pad closer to his face as he examines it. The light from the Matrix whites out most of the rest of the picture, and the mech is wearing a facemask that covers the bottom half of his face, but he could swear…

He shakes his helm and continues on with the article, trying to make helms or tailpipes of what is happening.

_Early this morning,_ it starts, _the world was shocked by a disturbance at the Prime’s palace, and of what appeared to be another mech claiming Primehood. Alerted via an anonymous tip, IaconNews arrived to find the claimant contesting the validity of Sentinel Prime’s office of Primehood._

_“At first I didn’t think it was anything,” claims Datastar, an onlooker from the gathering crowd. “But then he opened his chassis. I might not be a scholar, but it sure looks like the Matrix to_ me.”

_Archivist scholars seem to agree. “Only Primus can bestow the Matrix of Leadership,” palace archivist Alpha Trion explains. “If Optimus has the Matrix, while Sentinel does not, then it isn’t difficult to know which is the true Prime.”_

_Optimus, as we are told, is the name of Sentinel's challenger._

_“I received the Matrix last orn,” Optimus claims in his statement to the press on the palace steps. “I traveled to the core of Cybertron, and there, witnessed by Alpha Trion, I received the Matrix of Leadership.”_

Megatronus stops reading, his spark pounding in his chest, his suspicions confirmed. Sentinel’s challenger, this… Optimus, is Orion Pax.

The next article reiterates his discovery. **ARCHIVIST OR PRIME? WHO IS ORION PAX?** it reads, the article focusing on an in-depth history of whatever information they could get on Orion in the short period of time since his reveal.

His servos shake slightly as he stares at the pad, and he has to vent in deeply to try to cool his heating systems, his CPU overwhelmed as he tries to take in the implications of everything. Of course, he had known that Orion had been going to go to the core of Cybertron in order to try to find something to take down Sentinel Prime but this…

This is not what he wanted.

This is not what he had been expecting. He had not been expecting Orion to find anything at _all_ really, and to have him apparently find the _Matrix of Leadership_ , and to come back making a claim for Primehood…

His engines turn over in a growl and he grits his denta, his optics darkening as he exits out of his first message and clicks on Orion’s, wondering what he could _possibly_ say to start explaining this.

_Megatronus,_ the message starts, the text sent early this morning, but after he had gone into the final Vos-Kaon negotiations. _Things have been changing so quickly, I can hardly comprehend it. I don’t have a lot of time to explain, but something unexpected happened when Alpha Trion and I reached the core of Cybertron._

_It… I don’t know how to describe it, but it seemed to awaken while I was there. Primus truly is still in the depths of Cybertron, although I believe it has been eons since any of his children have been touched by his presence._

_The experience was so overwhelming… it is hard to even document, but… while I was with Primus in the core, I found myself bestowed with the Matrix of Leadership._

_It still exists! Alpha Trion says we will definitely be able to prove Sentinel is a fraud now. I think he is right, I don’t know how to explain it, but the Matrix… I think I know what I need to do. I’m sorry I don’t have a lot of time to wait for you, but Alpha Trion and I are planning to use the media to force Sentinel’s servo._

_I never expected Primus to make me a Prime but—_

He closes out of the message, his emotions in a turmoil as he stares down at the pad.

This is not what he had been expecting. This is not what he wanted.

He had been hoping that with Sentinel’s fraud, they could maybe take down the Prime and Senate all together. The system is so corrupt that it had seemed _obvious_ to him that simply replacing Sentinel with another mech would not be acceptable.

Of course, he hadn't really been expecting the Matrix of Leadership to show up, and he hadn't been expecting _Orion_ to apparently be chosen as Prime, but… but still.

They were supposed to take down Sentinel _together._ They were supposed to work together on this, and in the end… he hadn't even been in the same city-state.

His mouth twists downwards, and he puts away his datapad with a huff, his shoulders stiff and tense as he turns on his heel and prepares to follow his orders from Kaon.

Return to Iacon immediately indeed.

Even though his transport is high-priority, it still takes almost a whole orn to get from Vos to Iacon. In that time, he gets to watch live updates from the newsfeeds as Orio— _Optimus_ throws the entire political scene for a loop.

**NO COMMENT FROM THE PALACE OVER FRAUD ALLEGATIONS,** an article in the morning announces. **CITIZENS QUESTION SENTINEL VALIDITY**

An article a short groon later: **PRIME CHALLENGER CLAIMS KNOWLEDGE OF SENTINEL FRAUD FROM SINGER**

And another: **ABUSE IN THE PALACE? SINGER MEDIC SPEAKS OUT**

A few cycles later and the articles continue to pour in. **“RIDICULOUS,” SENATOR ON FRAUD/ABUSE ACCUSATIONS**

**UPROAR AS OPTIMUS EXPOSES RAMPENT COVER UPS IN PRIME’S PALACE**

And then things start to actually change, Orio— Optimus having evidently set off a string of dominos that can no longer be stopped.

**POWER GRAB? UPPER-CLASS CONCERNS OVER LEGITIMACY OF ARCHIVIST’S CLAIM TO PRIMEHOOD**

**OPTIMUS TO SUBMIT TO MEDICAL SCAN— MATRIX VALIDITY TO BE DETERMINED**

**“WHERE IS SENTINEL?”— PROTESTORS GATHER OVER SILENCE FROM SUPPOSED PRIME**

**MATRIX NOT A FAKE! ACCORDING TO SCANS**

The headlines continue to pour in, and it is all he can do to keep up with them, hunched over his datapad in his transport, trying to prepare himself as much as possible for the chaos Iacon will be.

**CITY-STATE RELATIONS IN TURMOIL,** an article announces. **COUNCILLORS FROM ALL OVER POUR INTO IACON AS PRIME DEBATE CONTINUES**

**“PANDEMONIUM,” GOVERNMENT OFFICES SHAKEN AS TOP SENATORS EXPOSED IN PALACE COVER UP**

Megatronus can’t help scoffing at that, shaking his helm. Not only has Orio— _Optimus_ exposed Sentinel’s fraud, but he has also revealed the sheer _depth_ of it. All over the place, mechs and femmes are being outed for their corruption, resulting in an abrupt overturn of power in many of the city-states.

That, and the fact that suddenly there is a new Prime that they may or may not have to negotiate with, practically guarantees that every single official still left afloat by this scandal will be trying to make it to Iacon and form new ties and allies.

_What a mess,_ he thinks, as he stares down at the new batch of reports, his mind strangely detached as he reads.

**PRIME BREAKS SILENCE AS PROTESTS GROW** , one article tells him.

**OPTIMUS TO BE ADMITTED INTO PALACE** , another claims.

And then finally, the killing blow: **SENTINEL TO STEP DOWN— SENATE IN DISARAY**

He reaches Iacon late into the night cycle. The streets are too much of a mess for him to make his way to the palace right away, so he ends up staying in a hotel for the night. Every news and radio station is still obviously fixated on the events of the orn, and every few groons, he learns of a new politician falling under scrutiny thanks to Ori— Optimus.

He hasn’t heard much from Vos since he had left, but he imagines the city-state isn’t doing much better, considering some of the things that had come out recently about the Singer. He doesn’t have much time to worry about Vos though, because he really should be focused on _Kaon_ , now that Ori— Optimus has suddenly thrown the entire of the planet’s politics into the air.

**TRIAL FOR SENTINEL?** questions the article he wakes up to. **WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?**

**MORE SENATORS TO RESIGN,** announces the next one. **DELGATIONS FLOCK TO PALACE AS PRIME-FRAUD SCANDAL CONTINUES TO UNRAVEL**

Flock to the palace indeed. He himself sets off early enough, but the streets are congested as he drives, and the grounds of the palace itself is nearly overrun by media and civilians. Thankfully, things still seem to be relatively under control, the media and the public contained away from the steps by the palace guard, the situation charged, but so far peaceful as people continue to reel from the news.

The guards block his path into the palace, but they part once he shows them his ID, denoting him to be a delegate of Kaon. That isn’t the end of the security though. He supposes he can understand the heightened measures though, and he waits patiently as a black and white guard with doorwings and a red chevron scans him for weapons, his face completely serious and somber as he checks him over.

“ID?” he asks, holding out his servo, and he presents it for the second time, the guard moving on to scan and check its validity.

“Megatronus of Kaon?” he asks, once he is finished, his optics flicking over him. He nods, and the mech’s doorwings flick as he gives him back his ID. “Optimus Prime told us to watch for you,” he says, the name rolling off his glossa as if he has been using it for vorns. “The Prime is busy with delegation meetings, but you have a blanket pass to see him immediately.”

He blinks. Somehow, he hadn't been expecting that, Orio— Optimus hadn't seemed too concerned with him and their relationship when he had started his whole bid for Primehood, so it wouldn’t have surprised him if the mech didn’t mention him at all.

The sentiment is probably unfair, considering the mech he had known, but that had been Orion Pax. Not a Prime.

“I see,” he says finally, drawing in a vent and swallowing down the bitter feeling in his tank. “Where is he now?”

_Optimus Prime_ is in the middle of meeting with dozens of delegations, and trying to fill the rapidly growing holes in his Senate. The palace is abuzz with visiting representatives, and Megatronus flicks his optics over the milling crowds as his guard — Prowl, the head palace guard apparently — leads him down towards the main audience chamber.

The atmosphere is completely different from only a deca-orn ago. The stately, expensive elegance of Sentinel’s palace is mostly lost in the crowds of new faces, Councillors and Senators that had been in power for vorns suddenly shamed away from showing their face at the palace.

Of course, not all of them are, and Megatronus catches sight of a furious former-Senator as he passes by, the mech practically overheating as he rants and raves at an impassive guard, the mech clearly not permitted into the audience chamber.

Prowl leads him further on, and he sees the entrance of the chamber, the doors swinging open as a servant ducks through, a pile of datapads clutched in his arms. The door swings open wide enough for him to see inside, and he stumbles to a stop as he catches sight of Ori— Optimus Prime for the first time.

The news images had not done justice to the sheer physical change he had gone through. The mech is taller and broader, his armour practically battlegrade as he stands in front of a small group of minibot councillors. He is still wearing his mask, but Megatronus can tell he is busy speaking to the group, his stance calm and confident— completely divorced from the timidly passionate mech he had been before.

He stares, and he finds his pedes glued to the ground, his optics wide as he tries to find the Orion in the mech in front of him.

All he sees is Optimus Prime, and suddenly the sour feeling in his tank is back. The door swings shut, cutting off his view, but the brief glimpse had been enough, and his pedes remain frozen where they are, his body physically unable to confront Optimus right now.

Prowl notices he is no longer following, and he turns back in confusion, Megatronus forcing a small, thin smile on his face as he looks at him. “Actually,” he says, clearing his intakes as he tries to vent regularly. “I think I need to touch base with Kaon before I see him.”

Prowl seems to accept the excuse without suspicion, and he finds himself led back to the entryway were the other delegations are waiting their turn to meet with the new Prime. Prowl leaves him, and he edges over to stand with his back to the wall, his CPU spinning as he tries to come to terms with the situation.

He can’t help the bitter stab of betrayal that rises in his spark as he stands and vents, thinking over the events of the last few orns. This is not what he had been planning when he had first learned about Sentinel’s crimes.

He had been hoping that maybe bigger change could come from it. Surely once Sentinel was exposed, then people might be open to a different system of power— _any_ different system. Surely they could be brought to see the inherent corruption of their current system.

But then Optimus had to come in with the Matrix of Leadership. Not only will traditionalist be satisfied with a new Prime, but skeptics will be placated with a ‘legitimate’ leader. He scoffs. Sure, Optimus might be a true Prime, but is that really important? Just because they remove one batch of corrupt Senators, there is no guarantee more won’t swoop into the resulting power vacuum.

He wouldn’t be surprised if the process is already started, greedy mechs coming to Iacon in an attempt to get on the Prime’s good side, counting on his political naivete as he flounders in a new environment.

And that is another thing. What qualifications does Orion have in claiming Primehood— besides the Matrix of Leadership? Why is everyone but the snobbish elites seemingly okay with letting him lead, just because he apparently has the wisdom of Primus given to him?

What experience does Optimus have with politics? Was Primus simply desperate to depose a fake Prime, and therefore bestowed the Matrix on the first poor soul who happened to venture into the core for the first time in eons?

The theory is possible, but even as he thinks it, he finds himself reminded of the first time he had brought Orion to see Starscream. It had been when the Singer had been flying in the Gardens, and they had wanted to see if they could translate his words.

Starscream had reacted strangely to Orion, seemingly shocked and happy to see him, as though… as though he knew him. At the time he had wondered if the Singer’s connection to Primus or the Fates had somehow given him knowledge of Orion, but he hadn't been able to guess _why_ that would be the case.

Well now the answer is staring him in the face.

(And, hadn't Orion seemed particularly adept at understanding the Singer? It had been him who had given Starscream the pictures, and it had been him who had ultimately interpreted his clues about Sentinel’s fraud.)

His engines growl, the sound swallowed up by the noise in the room around him, and a scowl settles on his face, his servos tightening into fists by his side. When the Singer had first started singing to him, he had _thought_ that he had been singing important things _to him_.

Had it all been a ploy to bring Orion into the picture? He had thought Starscream had been singing about Cybertron’s issues too— not just the corrupt and cruel Sentinel. Had he really, truly simply been trying to replace the Prime?

_I should have known,_ he thinks bitterly, his anger growing as he stews. _The Singer is inevitably connected to the Prime. They are supposed to work_ together, _there is no way he would want to get rid of the Prime entirely._

That doesn’t change the deep sense of betrayal he feels as he thinks over all his efforts to connect with Starscream and understand him. He had worked so hard to help him, and this is what he receives.

(He can’t help remembering the first nonsense song the mech had sung for him. What had that been? A test? A joke? What?)

He doesn’t know, but the more he thinks about the Singer, the more he wants to find out what his plan had been this whole time.

To be honest, he doesn’t even know where the Singer is, but he hadn't seemed to be with Optimus, which makes it likely that he is still in his quarters. Without really a thought, he pushes away from the wall, his mind now set on finding the Singer, a cloud of discontentment seeming to following him as he makes his way over to where a guard is blocking the hall leading deeper into the palace.

It seems the current palace visitors are mostly being contained into one place, but apparently his ‘blanket pass’ overrules that, and the guard lets him through. No one else really gives him any trouble as he begins to stalk down the halls, his thoughts focusing continually on a certain Seeker.

He knows all this isn’t exactly Starscream’s fault, but he can’t help his anger as he thinks over ‘The Boxer’ song, and the ‘Sound of Silence’ one he had sung. Those had all felt _important_. He had gone to the Singer for a _reason._

But apparently that reason had been so he could bring the mech his new Prime.

He will admit that he is not in the best mood when he finally makes it to Starscream’s quarters. There are no guards at his door this time—the mechs probably busy thanks to the heavy security around the new Prime, and he walks in without issue, his optics sweeping sharply over the room in front of him.

He catches sight of Starscream sitting on one of the chaises, a datapad in his lap, his wings low and relaxed on his back. A small, distant part of him notes with interest that the mech is no longer wearing a robe at all, but the thought is mostly swept away by the flood of newfound anger the Seeker brings, all his growing complaints suddenly hitting again with full force as he marches into the room.

“You _knew,_ ” he accuses, as Starscream darts his helm up, his optics widening at the sight of him. “You knew,” he says again, because that feels like the worst of it, the sharpest betrayal of all the rest. “You knew he was going to be Prime. All along, you knew.”

In front of him, Starscream’s wings stiffen, his expression tightening as he sets aside his datapad and stands, his optics watching him warily as he comes to a stop a few feet away.

He doesn’t pay the expression much mind, his CPU too focused on his own anger. “Is this really all Cybertron’s future holds?” he rants, waving an arm and missing the way Starscream’s wings twitch back in apprehension. “How am I supposed to trust that things will really change with this new Prime?”

Starscream opens his mouth, but he doesn’t give him the chance to interject, his spark pulsing angerly in his chest as he begins to pace, the low growl of his engines underlining his words. “You _know_ the state of Cybertron’s lower classes,” he says, his optics narrowed and furious as he glares at Starscream. “Am I supposed to believe this will change with a new Prime? One inundated by greedy councillors busy trying to ease their way into his good graces?”

His growl grows into a snarl of frustration—although he regrets it a little when he sees Starscream flinch, the mech standing tensely by the arm of the chaise and watching him carefully as he rants. He grits his denta and pauses in his pacing, venting a little in an effort to calm himself.

While he may be angry, scaring Starscream is more cruel than necessary.

That doesn’t change the bitterness he feels when he thinks about how the mech had— had _used_ him.

Starscream seems to take his growing composure as a good sign, and his wings flick as he leans forward, his servo lifting up as he looks at him. _“I know it’s hard—”_ he starts, and that sets him off again.

“No,” he says, shaking his helm and taking a step back. “No,” he says again, his voice growing stronger. “I’m not doing this. I spent _vorns_ working my way up in Kaon. _Vorns_ trying to make change. And that is never going to happen. Not this way.”

Starscream’s optics widen in horror at that, and his vents pick up as his wings stand straight on his back, the Seeker actually stumbling forward a few steps as he lurches towards him. “ _Wait—”_ he starts, but for once, Megatronus doesn’t want to hear what he has to say.

“No,” he says as he shakes his helm again and begins to turn away, Starscream seeming to grow more frantic behind him.

_“Wait—”_ he tries again as he starts to leave, a frustrated noise leaving the Seeker as he struggles to come up with the lyrics he wants. Megatronus refuses to pay him much mind though. He has said his piece. He is done with the Singer, and the Prime, and Iacon and—

“ _I’VE NEVER HEARD SILENCE QUITE THIS LOUD.”_

The lyrics rocket off the walls and stop him in his tracks, his helm turning back to stare mutely at Starscream, the mech venting harshly and watching him with an almost frantic look in his optics, his wings tense and quivering on his back.

_“The sound of silence—”_ he stutters out, his voice tripping over the words as he sings the first important song he had ever sung to him, before switching to a new one, seemingly trying to speed sing as much as he can while he still has his attention. “ _And the violence,”_ he says between vents. “ _Causes silence. Who are we mistaken?”_

Megatronus tries to say something, although he isn’t sure what, and Starscream’s optics widen even more, his voice taking on a desperate tone as he stares at him. “ _Dead silence,”_ he says, his servo reaching out to him again. “ _Will come to rescue me.”_ He takes a step forward, his optics practically pleading with him. “ _When violence, has took this world away.”_

He swallows and stops after that, his optics fixed on his as he waits for him to react to his song. He looks like he expects him to walk out of the room again, and Megatronus suddenly remembers that Starscream had tried to sing some of these songs to Sentinel _too._

But of course, the Prime had refused to listen.

He groans internally as he realises he will be listening, despite everything. He already knows the perils of _not_ listening to the Singer. It would be foolish to ignore him now.

Especially given the themes of the songs he seems to have.

_Silence and violence,_ he thinks reluctantly as he stares back at Starscream. After a long klick, he finally vents in and turns back all the way, Starscream watching him carefully as he meets his gaze. “What are you saying?” he asks. “There is going to be violence? Why?”

His questions spark a vent of relief from the Singer, and he watches in confusion as he turns around, the mech weaving quickly through his collection of chairs as he makes his way back to his berth. He doesn’t have to wait long to see what he is after, the Seeker reaching down under his berth to pull out the stack of pictures Orion had given to him.

The sight of the pictures sets off a strong flare of melancholy in his spark, and he swallows heavily as he watches Starscream rifle through them, his wings sitting tense on his back as he tries to find what he needs. At last, he pulls out two pictures, letting the others fall to the floor without a care as he hurries back towards him, as though taking too long will lose him the chance to say his piece.

Megatronus can’t help the slight spark of guilt he feels at making the Seeker so anxious, but he is soon distracted away from it as Starscream comes to stand a few paces away, a picture held in each servo.

They are the pictures of him and Orion.

His optics widen at the sight of the two pictures, and he darts his gaze up to stare at Starscream, the Seeker returning his gaze with his own intense stare.

_“What seemed like a good idea has turned into a battlefield,”_ he says bluntly, without shifting his gaze. Megatronus gives a start at that, his mouth opening in shock, but Starscream doesn’t give him the chance to interrupt, his wings twitching agitatedly as he shakes the picture of Orion at him.

_“Once I called you brother,”_ he starts, his optics staring into him as he sings. “ _Once I thought the chance_ t _o make you laugh_ _was_ all _I ever wanted…”_ Starscream’s voice drops and he lowers the picture as well, his next lyrics seemingly divorced from Orion. _“I send the thunder from the_ sky _, I send the fire raining_ down.”

Megatronus blinks at the sharpness of the last word, his vents low and shallow as he watches Starscream raise Orion’s picture again. “ _And even now,_ ” he continues. _“I wish that God had chose another. Serving as your foe on his behalf, is the_ last _thing that I wanted.”_

Foreboding enters cold and sharp into Megatronus’ spark as his optics widen and he realises that the lyrics Starscream is singing are not _about_ Orion, but _are_ Orion, as though the mech is singing the words himself. He knows god means Primus, and Starscream is singing about Orion being chosen by Primus to serve as his foe.

His thoughts get pulled away as Starscream’s voice and servo drops again into the second, more ominous part. “ _I send a hail of burning ice_ , _on every_ field _, on every_ town.”

Orion’s picture comes up again and Starscream’s voice raises with emotion, his wings flaring out behind him as he sings the next lines. _“This was my_ home. _All this pain and devastation, how it tortures me inside.”_ His optics flash and his servos tighten on the picture. “ _All the innocent who_ suffer _, from your stubbornness and pride.”_

Megatronus’ tanks churn uncomfortably at the implications, and he finds himself stumbling back a step, his optics still pinned to Starscream as he drops into the second part again, his voice raising sharply at the end of every line. “ _I send the locusts on a wind_ , _such as the world has never_ seen, _on every_ leaf _, on every_ stalk, _until there's nothing left of_ green!” He takes a step forward, his wings shaking behind him. “ _I send my_ scourge _, I send my_ sword _. Thus saith the Lord.”_

Megatronus can hardly vent as he listens, but Starscream doesn’t let up, Orion’s picture coming up again as he stares at him. “ _You who I called brother_ , _why must you call down another blow?”_ Starscream’s optics flash, and he continues to shout the words at him as he takes another step forward. “ _Let my people go!”_

Megatronus can only stare mutely as Starscream vents in, his intakes shaky with the intensity of his singing. He isn’t finished though, because as soon as he completes his last line, he lowers Orion’s picture, and then raises the one of him, his own grey face and red optics staring up at him.

_“You who I called brother,”_ he sings, his voice taking on a bitter tone as he holds out his picture. “ _How could you have come to hate me so?_ _Is this what you_ wanted?”

Megatronus swallows uneasily as he thinks about a previous line that Starscream had assigned to Orion. _Serving as your foe on his behalf is the last thing that I wanted._

Starscream’s voice cuts into his train of thought again and he lifts his optics to see him practically spit out the next line, his servo with the picture lowered as his voice drops. “ _I send the swarm, I send the horde.”_

He vents in and lifts his picture again, his wings flared stiff and wide behind him, his optics practically burning into him as he sings. “ _Then let my heart be hardened, and never mind how_ high _the cost may grow–”_ His face twists and Megatronus has to fight from cringing backwards, his spark pounding in his chest as Starscream continues. “– _this will still be so_ —" He vents in deeply and stands completely upright, his wings fully extended behind him as he chants out the last line, his servo tight on the picture. “ _I will never_ let, _your people_ go.”

The last word comes out sharp and bitter, and the ensuing silence is almost deafening as Starscream finishes singing and drops his servo, the two pictures limp in his grip as he stares at him, his vents heaving.

Megatronus can only stare back at him numbly, his CPU spinning as he tries to take in everything he is singing. The implications— the _meaning_ behind what he had said, he doesn’t want to believe it but—

Well, he has to admit, that out of all the songs Starscream has sung him, this one seems to have the most clear, straightforward meaning.

His optics drop down to the picture of Orion, and he swallows as he thinks over that part of the song. Starscream had made it seem like two people, him and Ori— Optimus, were fighting. But Optimus— Optimus’ lines had seemed to be the more reasonable ones, talking about his reluctance and frustration and the whole, ‘let my people go’ thing…

_His_ lines on the other servo… It was like he was the unreasonable one, the one Optimus was fighting against because he was bringing destruction in his wake.

“But that—” he finds himself talking, his voice strained as he looks up at Starscream. “But that isn’t what I _want._ ” His intentions aren’t to _decimate_ things, he is trying to _fix_ things, he isn’t trying to—

“ _What started as a good idea has turned into a battlefield,”_ Starscream reminds him tiredly, his wings lowering to slump on his back, the mech looking drained now that he has sung his piece.

He shakes his helm and vents out, his wings twitching as he looks at him. “ _I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory,”_ he chants anew, his voice raising as he gains a little more energy. “ _When's it gonna get me? In my sleep, seven feet ahead of me?”_ His throat flexes and his optics shine with pain. _“If I see it comin', do I run or do I let it be? Is it like a beat without a melody?_

He cuts off and Megatronus stares at him, his mind buzzing as he thinks over all of Starscream’s songs. Silence and violence and fighting between him and Optimus…

“But—” he vents shakily. “But that isn’t what I— You can’t tell me the Prime system is better!”

In front of him, Starscream gives an abrupt laugh, his wings flicking up as he shakes his helm. “ _Corruption’s such an old song that we can sing along in harmony,”_ he says a sharp look in his optics.

He shakes his helm again though, and his mouth purses, his optics narrowing as he vents and lifts the picture of him again, his voice growing sharper. _“And?”_ he says, his optics cutting into him. _“If we win our independence? Is that a guarantee of freedom for our descendants?”_ He grits his denta and his servo tightens on the picture. _“Or will the blood we shed begin an endless cycle of vengeance and_ death _with no defendants?”_

His last word practically echoes off the walls around them, and it isn’t hard to pick up the meaning. Despite the current corruption, abandoning Optimus and trying to fight will—

“Is that really—” he can’t stop himself from taking a step forward, his optics wide and pinned almost desperately to Starscream as he tries to come to terms with what he is being told. “Is that really what happens?” he says thinly. “Do I start a war?”

The idea is so far from what he had been expecting that he can hardly comprehend it, but at the same time, he can see it so clearly, the discontent in Cybertron boiling up under him into violence, two sides forming in the struggle to reform the planet.

In front of him, Starscream vents, his optics deep and pained as he lowers his servo. “ _I see fire,”_ he sings lowly, his voice soft and worn as he looks at him. “ _Oh, you know I saw a city burn, feel the heat upon my skin…”_ His throat flexes and his optics shudder as his voice raises. “ _And if the night is burning, I will cover my eyes, for if the dark returns then my brothers will die.”_

His optics jump open and he looks up at him, his voice raising once again. “ _And as the sky is falling down, it crashed into this lonely town.”_ He vents in shakily and his servos clench around the pictures. “ _And with that shadow upon the ground, I hear my people screaming out. I see fire!”_

Megatronus finds his optics widening at the song, the words pulling up a memory from when Starscream had had his breakdown. He had sung those words too, he had sung that song back then.

“You… you knew about this then, too,” he whispers in realisation. “You knew all the way back then what could happen. That me and Optimus could split if he became Prime.”

Starscream blinks tiredly as he nods, and Megatronus stares at him, remembering Starscream’s desperation to make him listen to him when he had first come in. Starscream had known about the potential future of war for a long time, but he had still helped set Orion on the eventual path of becoming Prime.

“This… Optimus being Prime, it really is the best option?” he says, his own feeling of exhaustion settling over him as he rides out the emotions of the orn. “You wouldn’t risk it otherwise, right?”

In front of him, Starscream nods, and Megatronus swallows and vents slowly, his thoughts beginning to slow as he looks at Starscream. There is still a part of him that doesn’t want to believe, a part of him that wants to reject everything he is saying and go his own way. He knows though, that that is mostly because he distrusts the office of the Prime, and he is afraid that nothing will change— even under Optimus.

But…

He had come this far by believing the Singer. It would be really, really stupid not to do so now.

Yes, he wants change, but not at the expense of a disastrous war.

Still… “Will he be a good Prime?” he says softly, his optics on Starscream. “Will it be worth it, letting this happen?”

At his question, he watches Starscream’s wings relax, the mech realising that his songs have diverted disaster at least for now. His optics brighten and he nods. “Yes,” he says, his wings lowering, the simple gesture drawing a vent of relief from him.

“Alright,” he says, venting in and setting his shoulders as he looks down at Starscream. “What do I do now then?”

In front of him, Starscream smiles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was excited to post this chapter! I know a lot of you were curious how Megatronus would react, what did you think? I tried to make his anger seem in character, even though we know that Optimus is probably just as overwhelmed as he is right now.
> 
> Poor Starscream, at least he managed to Megatronus to listen.
> 
> One chapter left! 
> 
> **Songs in order of appearance:**
> 
> [Soft to be strong](https://youtu.be/YdnteGzh6QM), by Marina  
> [Wait for it](https://youtu.be/73P0-ebdGus), by Lin-Manuel Miranda (Hamilton)  
> [The Story of Us](https://youtu.be/0sUJ4N-tZO0), by Taylor Swift  
> [The Sound of Silence](https://youtu.be/bGLHadex0B0) by Simon and Garfunkel  
> [Zombie](https://youtu.be/Uv5wF-E9D8Y), by The Cranberries  
> [Dead Silence](https://youtu.be/fFtgGD52uhM), by Billy Talent  
> [Battlefield](https://youtu.be/RxZiSMwmfnY), Lea Michele  
> [Plagues](https://youtu.be/lmvwdffX_Ug), by Stephen Schwartz (Prince of Egypt)  
> [My Shot](https://youtu.be/AcM20zu51Aw), by Lin-Manuel Miranda (Hamilton)  
> [Non-stop](https://youtu.be/iKzehOou24I), by Lin-Manuel Miranda (Hamilton)  
> [I see Fire](https://youtu.be/qchjtnePFaA), by Ed Sheeran


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Megatronus figures out what to do after Optimus deposes Sentinel.

Starscream makes his next instructions very clear, his optics glinting with amusement as he lifts Orion’s picture. “ _They're asking me to lead,”_ he says, his optics flicking to Megatronus for a moment before darting back to Orion. “ _I am doing the best I can,”_ his optics jump back up, “ _to get the people that I need.”_

Megatronus squints at him for a moment as he interprets the song, before his shoulders straighten and he blinks in surprise. “You want me to help Optimus?” he says. “Are you sure he’ll want that?”

In front of him, Starscream snorts and shakes his helm, turning away from him as he makes his way back to his berth. His wings swoop easily on his back as he stoops down to pick up the pictures he had previously discarded, an amused expression on his face as he shuffles them back together.

He can’t help blinking a little at his reaction, since it is probably the first time the mech has been so relaxed and pleased around him, seemingly perfectly confident in whatever is going to happen next.

“Alright then,” he says, and then he turns around to go find Optimus Prime.

oOo

The hall to the audience chamber is still teeming with mechs from various city-states when he gets back, and he flicks his optics over the crowd. A dull buzz reaches his audio receptors as the voices of dozens of mechs overlap each other as they chat and wait to be called in to meet with the new Prime.

_Primus,_ he thinks as he flicks his optics up to the chamber door. While Optimus’ method of revealing his Primehood had obviously been effective, it certainly hadn't afforded him an easy transfer of power.

That is just going to be something they are going to have to deal with though, and he vents in determinately as he squares his shoulders and begins to make his way through the crowd, heading towards the doors.

There is a bulky red mech standing guard as he approaches, and he finds himself getting scanned warily as he comes to stop in front of him. “The Prime will get to ya when he can,” the guard says gruffly, the lines of what looks like a permanent scowl on his face. “I don’t know how long it’s goin’ to be.”

Megatronus has to fight back a small smile as he thinks about the nightmare it must be to crowd control this situation. Thankfully, Prowl had given him the impression that he can skip the waiting list.

“My name is Megatronus of Kaon,” he says as he pulls out his ID to show the guard. “I was told the Prime was waiting.”

It feels weird, calling a mech he had known as Orion not that long ago the ‘Prime’, but… he will manage. He has more important things to worry about.

In front of him, the guard’s optics widen at the sight of his ID and he finds himself getting scanned again, this time with a bit more appreciation. “Ah, _you’re_ Megatronus,” he says, his shoulders loosening slightly as he looks back towards the doors. “I’ll let the Prime know you’re here. Hang on a klick.”

He nods at that and puts away his ID as the guard turns to slip into the meeting room. The door opens silently and affords him a brief glimpse of a few mechs gathered around a table, seemingly in deep conversation.

It doesn’t take long for the guard to come back, the door closing silently behind him as he comes through. “You can come in once he’s finished with the batch from Polyhex,” he says as he retakes his guard post. “No one’ll come in while you’re with ‘em.”

The meeting doesn’t take long to adjourn, a servant from the inside opening the door as it begins to wrap up, letting him inside.

“Thank you, Jazz,” he hears Optimus say, his voice much deeper and fuller than it used to be and his mask still in place as he sits and shakes servos with a smaller, blue-visored mech. “I will keep what you said in mind.”

Megatronus doesn't know what they had discussed, but the black and white mech seems pleased, a smile on his face as he releases Optimus’ servo and stands to sweep into a quick bow. Light reflects off of the intricate decals on his armour that denote his Polyhexian origins, and Megatronus can’t help thinking of the wingstripes he had seen back in Vos.

He waits patiently for Jazz to leave, his optics following the delegation until the door swings shut behind them and leaves him alone with Optimus still sitting at the table. For a klick he wonders if the silence will be uncomfortable, but Optimus seems too relieved to see him for that to happen.

“Megatronus,” he says, relief evident in his voice, his mask sliding away as his optics brighten. “It's good to see you.”

He can’t help smiling at that, and he comes closer, his optics flicking over Optimus’ changed form as he goes to take the chair that Jazz had just vacated. “You are looking…well.”

Optimus winces and huffs out a vent, running a servo over his face and somehow instantly transforming from a solemn Prime to an overwhelmed archivist. “Don’t _remind_ me,” he says tiredly, waving his servo at him. “I nearly embarrassed myself getting into this chair because I forgot how big I was. It’s only been a few orns you know. I’d stand up, but I’m pretty sure I’ll trip over myself doing it.”

His expression is so rueful and put upon that Megatronus can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him. Optimus joins in after a klick, his shoulders loosening as he chuckles next to him.

“I really am happy to see you,” he says as they calm down again, an irritated huff bursting out of his vents as he slumps in his chair. “You won’t _believe_ how hectic this orn as been.”

Megatronus thinks back to all the article headers he had read, and a small smile flickers over his face. “Considering the crowds of people outside your doors, I think I can imagine.”

Optimus groans and runs a servo over his face again. “Primus,” he mutters. “I’ve been in meetings this entire cycle. First with Senators, and then with palace staff, and then the councillors started arriving…” His engines growl and Megatronus blinks to find the mech glaring, his annoyance at his orn finally manifesting.

“I swear they all think I’m stupid,” he says, sitting up higher in his chair and giving him a forlorn look. “Most of the higher-up mechs don’t like the fact that I was an archivist—you should have seen—one of them made a comment about my lack of robes.” He laughs, shaking his helm. “Even if I had had some as Orion, they definitely wouldn’t fit _now_ , and I don’t see how my lack of robes has anything to do with my ability to meet with people.”

“There are still mech’s in high positions here?” Megatronus asks, a little surprised, given how chaotic the news had made the ejection of corrupt Senators seem.

In front of him, Optimus sighs and waves his servo in a so-so gesture. “Some,” he says. “But given Sentinel’s corruption, I don't really know who I can trust— besides you.” He nods at him before huffing and rolling his optics. “I can tell already that nearly all of them are trying to play me for a fool,” he says. “I can tell they are all trying to pander to me, but _at the same time_ they don’t really think that I am a _proper_ Prime. Everything I do wrong just proves it to them.”

He sighs, and his shoulders slump. “Somehow it is _my_ fault that I don’t have a plan for how to suddenly replace the whole _entire_ Senate at once.” He vents and gives him a tired look. “I’m doing my best, but I hardly have any experience with this, and I can _feel_ people trying to turn me into a figurehead Prime or something. They think I’m naïve enough that they will just be able to do whatever they want.”

Megatronus frowns at that, but finds he isn’t really surprised. Thanks to the way he had become Prime, Optimus has almost no actual political allies, so to any Senators or Councillors who hope to spread their circle of power, the new Prime probably looks like easy kill.

“I can’t let that happen,” he hears Optimus say quietly, and he glances up to see the mech sitting with a troubled expression on his face. “Right now, people don’t want to listen to me,” he continues, his optics flicking to meet his. “But, even though I don’t know how to be a Prime, I _am_ an archivist, and I’ve spent my whole life learning about how Cybertron works.” He swallows and vents out a sigh, his optics dropping down to the table. “Sentinel and a lot of the past Primes have done a lot of damage to this planet,” he says softly, before he looks back up at him. “I think— I have ideas of how to help fix it. But I’m going to need help.”

Megatronus blinks as he realises what he is asking. “From me?” he says, and Optimus nods quickly, leaning forward.

“Yes,” he says, laying his servo on the table between them. “I know you have more experience with politics than I do, and I know I can’t do everything myself. I need someone I can _trust_ by my side. Someone who I know isn’t trying to play me for their own gain.”

Megatronus stares at him, and he can't help feeling like a bit of an idiot as he thinks back to his previous concern and anger over what Orion would become as Optimus Prime. He had been busy trying to convince himself that Optimus would somehow become like the other Primes, and he hadn't bothered to consider that the mech in front of him _also_ hadn't been expecting what had happened.

He hadn't asked to be Prime. All he had done was go out on a limb in an effort to remove Sentinel's corruption, and now suddenly, he is expected to lead the entire planet.

And he knows specifically how corrupt everyone around him is.

He knows he is probably expect to fail, so said corruption can grow.

He can't imagine how overwhelming that must be, and the fact that Optimus had managed to make things function at _all_ right now is probably commendable. His mind flashes back to Starscream's amusement over his doubts as to whether Optimus would want his help, and he can't help smiling too.

“You really have ideas for improvement?” he asks, and across from him, Optimus’ optics brighten, the excited archivist in him coming to the forefront as he sits up.

“Yes,” he says. “As archivists, we could research things and come to conclusions and write reports, but nothing ever _happened_ with them. We could research caste poverty, and make suggestions based on past initiatives but nothing would _happen._ ” He draws in a vent and gives him a satisfied look. “But now, I can start using that research. I can actually use the Archive for what it is for.” 

“And the Singer,” Megatronus speaks up, straightening in his seat, his spark rising in his chest. “He hasn’t been used properly in eons. But you can.”

In front of him, Optimus smiles. “Of course,” he says. “Everything has been so busy, I’ve hardly had the time to think— but Starscream already knew many of the corrupt Senators, I bet he can help us choose honest ones.”

Megatronus nods at that, although he personally doesn’t really like the idea of a Senate, even an honest one. But, under Optimus, it might be acceptable, and hopefully during his reign they can put some measures in place that will prevent that level of corruption from happening again.

“Alright,” he says, looking up at Optimus with determination. “Let’s get to work.”

oOo

Things don’t become easy right away, there is still _far_ too much that needs to be sorted out and investigated, but they make a good start on it. The arriving and waiting delegations begin to be escorted to guest rooms for the time being. Their presence foreshadows deca-orns of meetings and negotiations, but at least they are no longer clogging up the front lobby.

The specific meetings with delegations get put on hold for a moment while Optimus puts out several statements about Sentinel’s eventual trial, and reassuring everyone that while all of his old treaties and policies will all eventually be re-investigated, they will stay in place for now.

With that said, the planet no longer has to worry about their entire system of life being uprooted in one orn, and they can have a chance to try to find proper Senator candidates.

And that is where Starscream comes in.

“Ideally we want an equal number of Senators from each city-state,” Optimus tells him as they sit in his office. The room is still large and opulent, but it is on the second floor and farther away from the public, affording them some peace and quiet.

Away from the prying optics of the public, Optimus has his mask off again, and he bends his helm over a list of names with Starscream. “Most of the city-states’ governing systems have been disrupted because of the corruption scandals,” he continues. “Although most of them have at least put in temporary leaders, so we can still work with them.”

Starscream hums as he listens, his wings flicking lazily on his back as he leans forward and participates in his actual job for probably the first time ever since becoming the Singer. Megatronus can’t help smiling at that as he looks down at his own datapad of names.

When they had first asked for Starscream to join them, a servant had informed them that Sentinel had typically only visited the Singer once a deca-orn, since meeting the Singer was expected of him, even if he didn’t care for anything he had to say.

Megatronus flicks his optics over the two working mechs, and he imagines Starscream will be able to take a more active role in the palace from now on.

Not everyone is happy about that though.

“Wait.” In front of them, Councillor Firespark of Tyger Pax flicks his optics between the three of them, his gaze lingering on Starscream for a moment before it darts to Optimus. “I thought you were interviewing Senator candidates,” he continues, the ornaments on his frame rattling as he tosses his helm angerly. “You’re telling me you are actually basing your decision on whatever _he_ says?”

He points sharply at Starscream, and although Optimus’ mask covers most of his face, Megatronus can see his optics narrow in distaste for a nanoklick, obviously not impressed by the mech’s opinion of his Singer.

Starscream only smiles at the mech. “ _I knew you were trouble when you walked in,”_ he tells him smugly, confirming what they already know. Councillor Firespark will not be finding himself on the Senate any time soon.

Other meetings go better, and as the orns progress, they slowly compile a list of potential candidates. It isn’t complete yet, of course, several city-states are still dealing with the backlash of Sentinel’s removal, and have yet to send any delegations, but they are at least getting somewhere.

(Vos in particular, he has heard, is reeling in shock and rage at the reveal of the Air Commander’s crimes, and he thinks they are still busy trying to replace him, so they have yet to come to Iacon.)

A few orns into their work though, he begins to notice something just a little bit… _off_ , with Starscream. The mech still seems completely willing to help them, sitting at the table with them for most of the orn as they work through candidates, and complaints, and other issues that are suddenly heaped on top of Optimus. Starscream gives input when he can, but Megatronus can’t help noticing that he seems… restless.

Once he gives a name to the behaviour, it becomes almost glaringly obvious, and he watches as Starscream shifts anxiously in his seat. His optics rest on Optimus and his pile of datapads for only a moment before they flick off to the windows and then over to the side, his wings twitching agitatedly on his back. His digits spasm from where he taps them on the table, and his servo jerks up to scratch at his arm for a moment, before fluttering up to tug restlessly at a robe he doesn't have. (He hasn’t worn any since Sentinel had stepped down and been arrested, and Megatronus finds his isn’t surprised.)

The scratching isn’t even enough to dull his paint, but Megatronus can’t help the spark of alarm he feels at the sight of it. His CPU flashes back to when he had walked in on Starscream in the middle of his breakdown, the mech seeming to care little as he had scratched deep enough to draw energon.

“Starscream?” he finds himself asking, the mech’s optics jumping to him like a startled turbofox. “Are you alright?”

Optimus looks up at the concern in his voice, his optics zeroing in on Starscream’s agitated expression. “Is something wrong?” he asks, and Starscream’s optics jump between them, his wings twitching sharply as his vents turn low and shallow.

Megatronus can feel Optimus’ concern grow at Starscream’s reaction, and he sits up slowly, his optics still on the edgy Seeker. For his part, Starscream’s optics drop down towards the table, his wings stiff on his back as he presses his lips together, seeming reluctant to talk to them for the first time in orns.

Megatronus swallows at that, and Optimus’ optics flick to him worriedly, before he looks back at Starscream. “Starscream,” he starts slowly as he pulls his servo away from his datapads and gives the Seeker his full attention. “You know you can tell us anything, right? If you need something, that’s okay.”

Megatronus’ mind flashes back to what Ratchet had said once about Starscream’s trine, and he wonders if that is the problem. But that train of thought gets cut off as Starscream finally darts his optics back up to them, his wings fluttering nervously behind him as he flicks his optics around the room. His gaze rests for a moment on the window again before he looks back at Optimus.

_“Look up,”_ he says, his voice barely above a whisper as he watches Optimus, his shoulders hunching in on himself. _“Call to the sky. Oh, look up and don't ask why.”_ Megatronus blinks at the plaintiff note in his voice, and he watches as his lips press together again and he vents shakily, his wings jerking sharply on his back before he continues again, the tune changing with another song.

_“I know that ooh, birds fly in different directions.”_ His servos press into the table and his voice climbs beautifully as he sings the rising notes, his optics darting to Optimus. “ _Ooh, I hope to see you again. Ooh, birds fly in every direction.”_ He swallows. “ _So fly high, so fly high.”_

He vents shakily as he finishes before he seems to shrink back in his chair, as if he expects to be yelled at. Megatronus doesn’t want to think about what could have prompted that response, but he has a pretty good idea.

From the subtle flash in Optimus’ optics, he thinks the mech is on the same wavelength as him, but he keeps his reaction mostly hidden, not wanting to frighten Starscream even more as he tries to work out what he is saying.

It doesn’t take long, and Megatronus has to give credit to the theory that the Prime is supposed to be able to understand the Singer better than most, because Optimus’ optics brighten after only a few klicks, his helm darting over from Starscream to the window and back again as he figures out what the problem is.

“Oh!” he says, drawing a surprised twitch from Starscream, the mech watching him with a slight air of confusion as Optimus smiles at him. “Of course,” he says, settling back in his chair. “I should have realised. You need to fly, don’t you?”

Megatronus blinks and finds himself thinking back, trying to remember the last time Starscream had flown. Certainly not since Optimus had been thrust into office and— and hadn't the servant said when she had been leading them to meet Starscream in the Gardens that he was having his flight of the _deca-orn?_

He thinks of Vos, with its rising skyscrapers, and its sky-highways and opens skies… and he thinks Starscream’s deca-orn flight in the Gardens can hardly compare.

Optimus seems to think similarly. “Actually,” he says, shrugging almost casually, as though Starscream isn’t currently watching his every move. “I read during my research that the Singer used to fly over Iacon regularly.” His optics flick up to Starscream and he holds his gaze with a kind look. “You should do that, I think,” he says quietly. “The Gardens seem a little small to me.”

Starscream’s optics widen at that, and Megatronus nods, clearing his intakes as he jumps on board with Optimus’ plan. “We should take a break actually,” he says, sharing a glance with the mech, before looking back at Starscream. “You could go fly now, if you want to.”

To be honest, he isn’t really sure if Starscream is venting or not, the mech continuing to stare at them with wide optics, his wings completely still behind him as he takes in what they are saying.

“Yeah,” Optimus agrees, drawing his stunned optics as his mask closes over his face and he prepares to stand, seeming to pick up on the fact that the Seeker is in too much shock from their positive response to figure out what to _do_ with it. “We should do that.”

Megatronus gets up too, and Starscream trails along behind them as they exit the office, the mech watching them mutely as though he can’t quite believe what is happening. It doesn’t take long to reach the balcony that looks out to the lobby, and Megatronus watches as Starscream’s optics dart over to the doors leading outside as they begin to descend the steps to the first floor.

He wonders privately when was the last time Starscream had been let outside. It seems to him that Sentinel had made it a policy to keep a very tight leash on the Singer.

Starscream’s optics dart nervously to the guards as they approach the doors, but all they do is nod respectfully at Optimus and open the doors for them. This leaves Starscream to stand in the threshold, a frozen expression on his face as he stares out at the sky.

Megatronus and Optimus stop quietly to watch him, and a slight breeze flits through the doors, Starscream’s wings twitching as it brushes over him. His vents catch and a strangled noise bursts out of his throat before he breaks into a run, his wings flaring and his arms raising up beside him as he runs out into the sun.

Megatronus follows with Optimus as they step outside and watch as Starscream reaches the edge of the stairs. His thrusters ignite in one leap as he rises and twists, transforming in an instant, his engines roaring and a sharp shriek filling the air as he blasts off.

Megatronus finds himself speechless as he watches, his optics wide and mesmerized as Starscream shoots up into the sky. If he didn’t know better, he would swear there is an undertone of pure joy to the sound of his engines as he arches upwards, his flight faster and higher than anything he had been limited to in the Gardens.

He stays within the vicinity of the palace, but that only means that he and Optimus have a front row seat as the Seeker swoops through the air. His frame is sometimes only a speck in the sky as he leaps through spirals and barrel rolls and freefalls, his wings cutting through the air with near mind-blowing skill.

Beside him, he sees Optimus reach up to rub at his chassis for a moment, and he looks over. “When I got the Matrix…” he starts softly, his optics dim as he thinks. “Primus knew how his Singer was being treated. He…” his optics crinkle with something like wry amusement and he shakes his helm. “He was not _pleased_.”

Megatronus blinks, and he wonders what it must have been like exactly, to feel that. 

“I think Sentinel limited his flying time,” Optimus continues, his face tilted up as he continues to watch Starscream’s flight with appreciation. “In my research, it says that Seekers _need_ to fly. I think that Sentinel limited it to the bare minimum.”

Megatronus swallows and nods in agreement. “Yeah,” he says softly, looking back up. “I think Sentinel felt threatened by him, since the Singer can’t be faked.” He vents tiredly and watches Starscream loop around a cloud in the sky. “I guess we shouldn’t be surprised he was so controlling of him.”

He hears Optimus’ engines churn unhappily at that, and he looks over. “What about his trine?” he says, remembering how Starscream’s behaviour had reminded him of the missing Seekers. “Have you been able to find anything about them now?”

Beside him, Optimus sighs, his optics taking on a sad light as he watches Starscream. “I haven’t had much time, but so far I haven’t found anything useful,” he says. “I did send a message to Vos a few orns ago, but they are still busy finding a new Air Commander. I think it will be some time before they get back to me.”

Megatronus gives his own sigh and nods, his optics turning back to the Seeker in the sky. High above them, Starscream continues to swoop joyously through the air, a few notes drifting down to them as he realises the Seeker is singing, his flight sparking a song sung more for the skies than for them.

He can only hear a few words as the music drifts down to them on the wind, but he smiles at the sound.

“ _Clipped wings, I was a broken thing, had a voice, had a voice but I could not sing… And I don’t care if I sing off key_ … _I find myself in my melodies…I shout it out like a bird set free…”_

oOo

Starscream’s spirits seem to rise with his flight, and Optimus informs him that he doesn’t need permission to go flying, only to make sure the guards can ensure his safety. Starscream doesn’t seem to have a problem with that—although Megatronus heavily suspects that part of that has to do with the fact that Optimus had gone through and purged the guard of the mechs most loyal to Sentinel.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had made the cut. Vortex and Brawl had not.

The freer flying aside, they don’t really have a solution for Starscream’s missing trine. If Starscream knows where they are, he doesn’t seem to be able to tell them, and asking him about them yields nothing because he can’t even tell them their names.

Thankfully, Vos seems to be sorting itself out, and Optimus soon gets a message from the new Air Commander Starseeker, the femme informing him that a delegate will be visiting them shortly.

He comes during the mid-orn cycle.

Megatronus, Optimus and Starscream are busy reviewing a potential Senate Candidate from Tyger Pax named Bumblebee, when a servant interrupts them. Optimus’ mask snaps into place as the mech ducks into the office, holding the door open as though ready to slip back out in an instant and bowing apologetically.

“The Seeker delegate is here,” he says as he stands up again. Optimus blinks at him in surprise, glancing between them for a moment before he looks back at the servant.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says finally, nodding at the mech. “You can show him to the guest quarters. I will meet with him after my meetings with Shockwave tomorrow.”

In front of them, the servant presses his lips together and he shifts a little uneasily. “Forgive me, Prime,” he says quickly, bowing again. “He seems rather insistent. He is demanding to see the Singer.”

“The Singer—?” Optimus starts confusedly, only to be cut off by the sound of shouting outside. The sound is too far away and muffled to be understandable, but as the servant winces and Optimus’ brow furls in confusion, Megatronus watches Starscream sit up abruptly, his optics widening and his mouth dropping open as his vents stall.

He stares at him, and before Optimus can respond to the noise, Starscream is scrambling out of his chair. His optics are wide and his vents thin and rapid as he darts towards the door, the servant jerking it open in surprise to let the frantic Seeker through.

All it takes is one look between each other before he and Optimus are up and out of their chairs as well. The two of them head to the door as Megatronus tries to think what could possibly excite such a response from Starscream.

They catch up to him at the balcony, the mech standing stock still by the railing, his optics pinned on the form of an angry, shouting Seeker below. “I’m not leaving until I see him!” Megatronus hears him yell as he pulls away from a set of approaching guards. “I know what the former Prime did— I _demand_ to see the Singer!”

His optics widen as he recognises the voice, and in front of him, Starscream ignores the stairs completely, choosing instead to simply leap over the railing. His thrusters ignite and his wings flare behind him for balance as he sails down towards the Seeker in the lobby. Megatronus’ optics follow him, and he can’t help noting that the blue mech below looks suspiciously like the Seeker Thundercracker, whom he had met only a deca-orn ago.

He and Optimus approach the railing, and his suspicions are confirmed as the mech’s yells cut off and his optics widen at the sight of Starscream. A strangled noise catches in his throat as he runs forward to meet him, and Starscream doesn’t slow as he lands, the two collapsing in a tangled heap as Starscream grasps desperately as Thundercracker. A sob hitches in his throat and he squeezes his optics shut as he wraps his arms around him, his plating rattling as he clings tighter.

Around them, the guards shift uncertainly and glance up for direction. Megatronus waves them down without a second thought, his optics solemn as he looks down at the two Seekers. His CPU flashes back to Thundercracker’s tense and angry reaction to the mention of the Singer in Vos, and he has a pretty good idea of what is happening now.

Optimus has probably caught on to it too, the mech standing silently beside him as they watch Starscream press his helm into Thundercracker’s chest. His vents stutter unsteadily as his wings tremble behind him.

“ _I've been hearing symphonies,”_ Megatronus hears him sing, his voice thin and sparkbreaking as he clutches tightly at Thundercracker. “ _Before all I heard was silence.”_

In his arms, Thundercracker shudders out a muffled noise and he ducks his helm into his shoulder, his own grip on Starscream only letting up enough so that he can run a servo over Starscream’s wings as he continues his song. “ _A rhapsody for you and me,”_ he sings, his voice rising and falling with straining emotion, his wings pressing into Thundercracker’s touch. “ _And every melody is timeless.”_

It takes a while for Starscream and Thundercracker to calm down enough to actually talk to them, but Megatronus can’t really blame them. Even once they are more or less composed and sitting in front of him and Optimus, they still don’t let go of each other, some part of them always touching as they sit across the table from them.

“You’re his trinemate,” Megatronus starts with the obvious, and Thundercracker nods.

“Yes,” he says quietly, his servo tightening on Starscream’s. “I would have come earlier, but things were kind of a mess in Vos.”

Megatronus nods at that, before he darts his optics over Thundercracker. “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” he wonders. “When I was in Vos, you said you didn’t know who the Singer’s trine was.”

In front of him, Thundercracker sighs, his engines letting out a slight growl as he scowls down at the table. “I wasn’t allowed to,” he says quietly, before glancing at Starscream. “After ‘Screamer was sent to Iacon— and even before that really, we basically got put on lockdown. Nobody was supposed to know who his trine was, because nobody was supposed to know for sure that his trine wasn’t _with_ him like it was supposed to be.”

“Why weren’t you?” Optimus asks, his voice solemn as he looks at them with a steady, understanding gaze. “Why were you kept separate?”

Thundercracker snorts and shakes his helm, his servo tightening on Starscream’s again before he looks up at them. “A lot of reasons probably,” he says bitterly. “Control is a big one. Trinemates are good leverage against each other.”

Megatronus nods slowly at that, not at all surprised that Sentinel would choose to do something like that. “Air Commander Sunburst was in cahoots with Sentinel, yes?” he says, calling Thundercracker’s gaze over to him. “I suppose keeping you by his side is a good way to ensure you never cause problems.”

_A trinemate for each of the leaders,_ he thinks bitterly. _Each kept locked up in a gilded cage._

Thundercracker grimaces at that and nods, before Optimus sits up slightly. “Wait,” he says, glancing between the two Seekers. “Trines are supposed to have three mates, is your third mate still in Vos?”

Both Thundercracker and Starscream wince at that, and Megatronus watches as their wings twitch agitatedly, twin scowls on their faces. “No,” Thundercracker gets out as he looks back up at Optimus. “Sentinel took him away.”

“ _Locked away,”_ Starscream says mournfully, his wings fanning behind him as he looks at Optimus. _“In an unknown place_.” His voice breaks slightly on the high note, and he looks away.

“We think Sentinel locked him in a prison somewhere,” Thundercracker clarifies, his optics darting between him and Optimus as Megatronus marvels at the sudden ease at understanding Starscream’s clues. “We don’t know where.”

His CPU helpfully brings up the time Sentinel had censored Starscream because of ‘someone he had in his custody’, and a scowl grows on his face as he huffs out a vent and looks up. “Why did Sentinel lock away your mate, but leave you in Vos?” he asks, and Thundercracker’s wings slump slightly as he looks at him.

“I think…” he says slowly. “It was so he could have someone close to Starscream nearby,” his lips press together, and he looks down, his voice dropping into a mutter. “Sunburst probably wanted some collateral for himself, so he kept me, and… well the best way to punish a trine is to separate them.”

Megatronus’ tanks flip unhappily at that, and he looks over as Optimus sits up, determination lighting up in his optics. “What was his name?” he asks, looking at each Seeker in turn. “If Sentinel took him, then there must be a record somewhere.” His optics flash and Megatronus imagines he is giving them a crooked smile under his mask. “I have a lot of experience with those.”

oOo

Skywarp.

The third trinemate is Skywarp, and once Optimus has the name, it doesn’t take long for him to task the entire Archives into finding out what had happened to him. With an entire _army_ of archivists, it takes less than two orns before they receive an answer back in the form of a datapad and a prison record.

“He’s in a prison at the edge of the city,” Optimus tells them, Starscream and Thundercracker practically vibrating with impatience as they organise themselves. “I’ve already told Prowl to get a convoy ready for us. We’ll go get him as soon as possible.”

As quickly as they are working, it still takes about an orn to get everything in order. Starscream and Thundercracker bear it the best they can, but while Optimus tries to offer distractions in the form of working with the Polyhexian delegates to pick which instruments he should order, the work is only holding action for the anxious Seekers.

Even with the impressive speed the palace guard manage to organise everything, Megatronus doubts anything could be fast enough for the two trinemates. The orn of the retrieval arrives though, and he watches them sit tensely next to each other in the transport vehicle, their servos clasped tightly as they watch the scenery change as they drive out of the main city.

The prison, when they arrive, is an imposing isolated grey complex, everything about it utilitarian and severe, an electric fence surrounding the whole compound as they drive in. Megatronus can’t help the sour feeling that builds up in his tank as he looks around the desolate place, unable to imagine how long Skywarp must have been held here, away from his trinemates and his people.

He hopes Sentinel is being kept in a place as bad as this while he awaits his trial. He doubts it, but he wishes it anyways.

Both Thundercracker and Starscream have similar sick looks on their faces as they get out of the transport vehicle, the two Seekers silent and stiff as Prowl steps forward to guide them towards the main building. Megatronus vents quietly and follows along with Optimus as they trail a few paces behind.

Once inside, they are met by the head warden, a stiff red and white mech named Red Alert. According to Prowl, the mech has a reputation for running a tight—but fair—ship, so Megatronus has at least some hope that Skywarp hadn't been subject to more cruelty here, on top of being unjustly imprisoned and kept from his trinemates.

Red Alert guides them towards a visiting room and keys the door open. “Everything should be in order for him to leave this orn,” he tells Optimus simply, before he gestures for them to enter and finally ducks away.

Prowl stays outside, but Megatronus and Optimus follow after the two trinemates as they step into the mostly baren, grey room. A Seeker stands by the far wall, next to another door, and Megatronus watches as Starscream and Thundercracker stumble to a halt. Silence hangs in the air as their optics become pinned on the red pair of the black and purple mech, Skywarp standing just as frozen across from them.

Even from a distance, Megatronus can tell the Seeker’s time in prison has worn on him. His paint is dull and scratched in places, the purple wingstripes on his wings chipping away in spots as he draws in a sharp vent.

The moment breaks, and Starscream lets out a desperate noise as he and Thundercracker sprint across the room. They tumble together in a frenzy of metal limbs, all three of them shaking and trembling as they reunite.

“Primus,” Thundercracker whispers as he clings to his trinemate, his voice thin with emotion and his servos shaking as he runs them over and over again on Skywarp’s plating. “Primus, primus— I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

In his arms, Skywarp lets out a wet laugh, his optics bright with tears as he clings to his trinemates, his own stuttered phrases getting lost amid his trinemates’ as they check each other over. Thundercracker mutters lowly about the state of Skywarp’s wings while the mech himself seems more appalled by Starscream’s complete lack of wingstripes than anything else. His servos flutter over the bare panels, and Thundercracker hums a low agreement and mutters something about fixing the problem soon.

Megatronus’ spark warms at the sight, and when he looks over, Optimus’ optics hold the same warmth, a pleased gleam in his gaze as he watches the three Seekers come together. “I’m glad we were able to find him,” he says quietly, and Megatronus nods.

Next to him, Optimus sucks in a deep vent and lets it out as a sigh, his optics flicking around the room with a troubled look. “I think I’m going to have to look into what other kinds of people Sentinel has been locking away,” he says tiredly. His shoulders slump slightly as he takes in the sheer magnitude of work he has in front of him. “There is so much to do.”

Megatronus nods, but bumps shoulders with him, calling his attention as he raises his chin. “We’ll be able to figure it out,” he says confidently, and Optimus’ optics flick over him hopefully.

“You think so?” he says, and in front of them, Megatronus hears Starscream begin to hum. The notes rise and fall rapidly, and the tune is filled with so much mixing emotion that it doesn’t even need words, the song managing to perfectly encapsulate his feelings upon reuniting with his trinemates.

He looks over at the three Seekers and he smiles, his spark settling contently in his chest. “Yes,” he says quietly, his optics flicking over the group as the other Seekers begin to hum along, their harmonies matching perfectly to Starscream’s song. “I do.” 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this final chapter! I really enjoyed writing about Optimus and Megatronus sorting things out, as well as letting Starscream fly and reunite with his trinemates.
> 
> I have some plans to write another story in this universe, but if probably won’t be finished for a while.
> 
> **Songs in order of appearance:**
> 
> [Non-stop](https://youtu.be/iKzehOou24I), by Lin Manuel-Miranda (Hamilton)  
> [I knew you were trouble](https://youtu.be/qUn1tzyTYeo), by Taylor Swift  
> [Angel by the wings](https://youtu.be/cHKHnWhthEQ), by Sia  
> [Birds](https://youtu.be/RH3uGSzh4Dc), by Imagine Dragons  
> [Bird set free](https://youtu.be/Js_jnP8STSI), by Sia  
> [Symphonies](https://youtu.be/PIf9GvWaxQQ), by Clean Bandit, feat. Zara Larsson  
> [Locked Away](https://youtu.be/njGHngSazX8), by R City, feat. Adam Levin  
> [Lights](https://youtu.be/V9RbUwvqc2U), by Ellie Goulding  
> [Limitless](https://youtu.be/4A1hkNwhUcY), by The Piano Guys (this is the song I imagine Starscream is humming at the end)

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr:[16woodsequ](https://16woodsequ.tumblr.com/)  
> [Playlist](https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLuNzkXxLp_H2YGBYHhikaLHEFkncbIQMh) for this story


End file.
